Demon Eyes
by octopus woman
Summary: Remy is used to a womanizing life as the Prince of Thieves and heir to the head of Thieves Guild, but after a chance meeting with an angel in a diner, his life takes on a change he never thought possible. Rated M for adult content.
1. Hot Summer Days with Gorgeous Waitresses

**So after finishing my first fic, I decided that I just wasn't finished with ROMY, so here is a story about them that may take things in a hot direction quite fast! Hope you enjoy!**

**Oh and as always I own nothing Marvel does, those greedy bastards own Remy and I would totally buy him off of them if I could, Rogue too, but sadly I can't and so I write these stories; but I digress, here's the story.**

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><p>Chapter 1-Hot Summer Days With Gorgeous Waitresses<p>

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><p><em>The one thing I'll never forget<em>

_How his heat permeated everything._

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><p>He remembered the day he first met her. If he had known then what he did now maybe things would have been different. Maybe he wouldn't have let himself get the better of him. Maybe he would've put a stop to the pain and suffering. He never thought he was very smart, but he knew about these kinds of things. Was supposed to know how to deal with these kinds of situations. It was a liability if he didn't. He was never one to follow the rules.<p>

He sat down at the counter of that tiny little diner on Seventh Street on a warm, humid, July morning. The Louisiana heat mixed with the moisture and was causing everything in the room to curl and warp in odd ways. The French Quarter had yet to come to life; it was too early for the type of excitement that Remy Lebeau was used to in his home town. But then again he was too exhausted to even enjoy the chaos that was New Orleans at this current moment.

His limbs ached for the first time in a long while as he pushed himself onto a worn wooden stool at the edge of the counter, brushing his trench behind him so he could sit more comfortably. He cracked his neck and let out a yawn as the waitress pushed a menu toward him. He rubbed his face, scratching at the stubble on his chin as his blood red irises scanned the various items on the small plastic covered menu. It was too early to think let alone get out a coherent order for a meal, but he had to be here. He yawned yet again as he told the waitress to bring him an extra strong cup of coffee and nothing else. She smiled at him tiredly as she disappeared to fetch him his order.

Remy looked down at his hands. They were dirty, both literally and figuratively. So was the life of the Prince of Thieves. He had just gotten back from a job, had hitched a ride on a commercial flight from Paris, had just stolen an ancient ceremonial mask from some private owner and handed it over to a black market dealer, for the right price of course. The job had been trickier than first thought, but Remy put the blame of that on the damn, greedy client, although he could never admit this to anyone but himself. The client had demanded that the mask be transported through a specific channel, which wasn't the first time a client had requested to do so, what was the tricky part was that particular channel happened to be monitored by Interpol for such black market transportation. Gambit knew this, the client knew this, his team knew this and yet they still went along with it. For vast sums of money his father would most likely lay down his prodigal's son's life or at least Gambit like to think so.

The second Gambit hit the channel he knew he was being watched, and rather than risk getting caught he high-tailed his thieving ass out of there and caught the first connecting flight to Paris, the European head quarters for the guild. Once there he detailed to his client the issues he faced and once again the bumbling fool wanted to send him back to the prior drop off point. At this point, Gambit had been close to letting the man have a piece of his mind, but remembered that his father wouldn't be too happy with him if he did, not that it mattered much to Gambit how his father felt at any moment in time. Nevertheless, he had to sneak his way back into the channel and confirm the drop off of the item to his client who seemed far from pleased, igniting frustration once again in the demon-eyed man.

Needless to say, Gambit was having a hard time getting used to the fact that he had to take orders which resulted in the unnecessary beating of his client which Gambit took great pleasure in, as the man had been a pain his royal ass the entire time he had been contracted to work for him. Rule number one of the thieves guild: never get caught, rule number two: always please the client but when large amounts of cash came into the equation rule number one could be pushed aside and have slightly less weight than rule number two. Because of Gambit's blatant breaking of rules, he was being reviewed by the council, hence his current position in this tiny diner. Henri, his older brother, and right hand man to the council leader i.e. Jean Luc Lebeau, i.e. Remy's father, had requested they meet to discuss the terms of the council's assessment of the damages Remy had caused to their reputation. He really wished he didn't have to be here.

The waitress had finally returned with his coffee and placed it in front of him with a small smile before adding that she would not be his waitress anymore because her shift was over and that some other waitress with an odd name that piqued Gambit's curiosity could help him if he needed anything else. He nodded sleepily as he took a sip of his coffee that tasted like it had been brewed from acid and watched as the waitress removed her apron and walked away, his eyes glued to her backside. He wondered idly why she had been hired if she made such a horrible mockery of coffee, and then he realized that the way her hips swayed would give most men the idea to tip heavily. He smiled, the world was just as perverse if not more so than he was. It was a good way to feel sometimes.

After a few more sips of his coffee, Remy decided to keep the cup as far away from him as possible, lest he get some sort of sickness from the bitterness. He watched the fat Cajun cook from the tiny window that revealed the kitchen as he cracked some eggs to fry and had bacon sizzling on the grill already. If Henri didn't hurry up Remy was going to leave and find solace in the comfort of his king sized bed in his room with black out curtains. It was far too early for him to be up. Remy took a look at his watch, it read 5:32. If Henri didn't show up in the next three minutes Remy was leaving and taking his bed up on its offer of a sound night's (day's) sleep. But sadly just as he lifted his head to check the door for the hundredth time, this time he actually saw Henri's tall slender body and curly brown hair bustling through it. He muttered under his breath as he turned around and took a sip of his coffee, choking on it when he remembered the acid taste.

"Frérot (little brother)," Henri said with a sheepish smile as Remy stood up and hugged him.

"Henri," Remy stated with a deep breath as he took comfort in his older brother's presence. Henri had always had a calming effect on him, ever since they were boys and especially when it came down to guild issues; Remy knew he could always count on Henri to have his back.

"So why do ya have ta find at leas' one way ta piss off père a week?" Henri joked as he took a seat on the stool beside Remy, placing his hands in front of him as he stared at Remy with a reproving smile.

"Je ne sais pas (I don't know), Henri, cause it be fun," Remy joked back with a roll of his eyes as he went back to the cup of coffee and then thankfully remembering the taste before he actually had to drink, pushed it aside. "What be de word wit' de council anyway?"

Henri's expression took on a grave tone as he shifted ever so slightly on the stool and took to looking at the cook as Remy had to keep his brown eyed gaze away from his brother's demon eyed one. Henri knew that he might as well be admitting to him that it was a fight that he wouldn't win. The brothers had been schooled in the intricacies of body language, and how one movement or blink could give away whole thoughts, motives, and truths. Remy knew before Henri's movement that his fate had already been sealed; he had just hoped that he could have had some say in it. Remy swiveled on the stool and faced the cook, both brothers staring blankly at the rather large, dark man humming to himself while he flipped pancakes and sizzled bacon. Life could be so simple, for the lucky ones.

"It's not ya fault frérot, it's just de rules of de guild," Henri mumbled still staring at the cook.

"Je Sais frère, c'est amer (I know, bro it's bitter) is all," Remy stated plainly as he thought of the coffee. He figured he might as well order another one; maybe ask for a side of bourbon if they had it. This was definitely a time to mourn. Remy waited for the new waitress to pass by to order and was overcome by the beauty of the young girl who walked by him, a tray perfectly balanced in her small, delicate, creamy hands.

"Ya know, its not de end of de world or anyt'ing Rems, it's just de guild's way of keeping everyt'ing in order, makin' an example out of ya. They'll be knocking on ya door in no time, ya wait an' see," Henri encouraged as he stared out of the corner of his eye at his brother, Remy's signature wolfish grin, showing its beginnings on the man's lips.

"Rem, are ya paying attention?" Henri laughed at him quietly. But Remy was too busy watching the goddess in a waitress uniform pass out meals to listen to anything besides the beating of his own heart and the throb that was making itself known quite a bit more south.

The woman was absolutely gorgeous and Remy had to make sure she knew it. He flagged her down, he had forgotten about the coffee he just needed to get this woman to speak and then maybe after a few sweet nothings and devilish smirks he could get her to moan. The second Henri saw Remy eyeing the waitress he knew he might as well leave, when Remy got his mind on a woman there was no dealing with him until he had had his fill of the fille. The waitress, already looking tired but still outrageously beautiful, walked up with downcast eyes and waited for Remy's order. She wasn't really paying any attention to him, she just needed to be there, and it was her job after all to wait.

Remy gazed up at the angel standing in front of him, he had been wrong when he said she was gorgeous, she was so much more than that, she was dazzling, stunning, strikingly beautiful. She was slender with milky white skin and a body that screamed sin. Her ample breasts were covered by a simple white tank top and her shapely hips and behind were encased in tight black shorts. But this was not where Remy was looking; he was overcome by the angel's emerald locked orbs, wide and deep, and dazzling, framed by two strands of white that fell from auburn locks held in a messy, curly bun. She was fiddling with her bottom lip, red and plump and Remy couldn't keep his eyes from darting to the perfect attribute and notice a small cut mark. He looked back up at her eyes and for the first time saw that there was a slight purple hue around her left eye that was only partially hidden by makeup. His wolfish grin automatically turned to a scowl as anger flooded his veins. She waited quietly, almost shyly for him to order before Henri finally spoke.

"Remy, homme vous y (man are you there)?" Henri whispered as his brother was taken over by his thoughts. Henri shrugged it off and politely ordered. "Well in any case, I'll take a cup o' coffee."

"Nothing for ya, sugah?" the angel asked curiously. Remy's eyes immediately darted up to hers and she was lost in the ruby waves set upon a sea of onyx, she began to gnaw at her lip again nervously. This man was making her extremely uncomfortable.

"Faire que les deux (make that two) coffees, chérie," Remy said as he kept staring into her eyes. She felt shaken up, could this stranger really see past her carefully crafted façade? For a moment the two did nothing but stare until finally Henri made a coughing sound and the waitress was startled and quickly straightened up, plastered on a fake smile for Henri's sake and slowly walked away, not before sending a few looks over her shoulder at Remy though.

"Homme, je Sais pas comment vous le faites (Man, I don't know how you do it)," Henri commented lightly, shaking his head and smiling at his younger brother. Sometimes he just wondered how he made women swoon without so much as saying a full sentence.

Henri was waiting for a response but he wasn't going to get it. Remy's attention was still on the beautiful goddess with the pain etched into her emeralds, the ones set in her eyes. How could someone so magnificently gorgeous, be so riddled with pain? The second he had seen the marks he had wanted to run to her, console her, as well as bury whoever had caused this dazzling creature pain. This feeling was odd. He'd never felt this kind of connection to any woman that wasn't family, let alone some stranger. Remy was overwhelmed with thoughts as Henri continued to glare at him awaiting an answer. Finally Henri gave Remy a signaling whistle to see if he was still paying attention and Remy snapped back to reality.

"Je suis désole (I'm sorry)," Remy told his brother as he shook his head and tried to bring his gaze to the curly haired Cajun sitting beside him.

"Ya okay dere Rems?" Henri asked half concerned, half mockingly.

"Hmm?" Remy answered once again lost in the many thoughts and images of the waitress that had been floating through his mind. "Oui just-"

"De waitress, Rogue," Henri mentioned playfully. "Yeah I caught dat already, homme."

"Ya know her?" Remy asked eagerly and somewhat confusedly.

How did Henri know the goddess? Did he know about her past, about the pain written in her eyes? Did he know why she was hurting internally and externally?

"Oui, frérot, she's our waitress," Henri stated simply and watched as Remy sighed and rolled his eyes before diverting his attention back to watching the waitress hand out plates.

"But-"Henri began in a teasing tone and Remy's ears perked up automatically.

"But what?" Remy asked excitedly.

"Dat dere fille is also a contact of de guild's. She has connections wit your ol' ami, Logan," Henri teased yet again.

"Ya kidding," Remy stated in awe as he stared at the slender woman.

"Non, she used ta be an X-Man, befo' she moved down here."

Remy whistled and looked back at his brother. He had had his fair share of run-ins with the X-Men but never before had he witnessed such a beauty on their team, nor could he ever remember her face amongst the many that composed the team. But then again the majority of the time he ran into them he was doing exactly that running. His relationship with Logan on the other hand was somewhat less strained, at least at the moment. They had a way of helping each other out without the knowledge of the X-Men; the two would swap information concerning targets often, always covertly of course.

"What happened? Why'd de fille leave?" Remy kept asking questions, he wanted answers, wanted to better know his angel.

Henri merely shrugged as he saw Rogue approaching with their coffee in her hands. He smiled idly at Remy, winking at him before giving Rogue a sheepish grin and taking a sip of the coffee. She placed Remy's cup in front of him and dashed away awkwardly, she was scared that if she lingered too long another staring match would result and she could not afford to be caught lollygagging at work. As soon as she was out of earshot Henri resumed their conversation.

"Anyways, as far as why de fille left New York, it's not certain but de guild t'ink it might have something ta do wit her powers. She lost 'em," Henri continued. "But we're not really inclined ta find out de whole story as dat fille is a très bon contact and we plan on keeping 'er."

Remy looked away for a moment to digest what he had just heard and at that moment he heard Henri whistle yet again in shock, and look down at his watch in such a fake manner that Remy swore Henri might as well have just left without saying goodbye.

"Well look at de time frérot, Mercy gon kill me if I ain't home for breakfast an' ya know moi got de guild meetin' ta be at ta put a bon word in for ya ungrateful ass so I'll leave ya to ya coffee and see ya later," Henri stated as he took one more sip from his and stood up.

The brothers embraced and Henri left Remy to sit at the counter and gape at Rogue longingly. Only moments after Henri left, Remy decided he too should leave. He paid the bill, leaving a rather generous tip (a hundred dollars to be exact) and then taking his leave to that comfy and alluring bed and its promise of sleep, but not before making a call to an old friend for information.

"Bonjour, mon ami, guess who?" he practically sang into the phone as he walked down the street, the first morning light beginning to light the French Quarter and people began to fill the streets with music and the sweet smell of freshly baked pastries, Remy stopped for a moment to test some beignets at a small stand before continuing on as the person on the other line grunted a hello. He wondered how long this conversation was going to take even with someone as short sighted and impatient as his old friend.


	2. Y' Wanna Know Moi

Chapter 2- Y' Wanna Know Moi

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><p><em>Past, present or future there's always something to learn<em>

_the question is are you daring enough to know it?_

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><p>"What's this about Gumbo, I'm kinda busy," Logan growled from the other end of the line. Remy heard a distinct giggle from the other side of the phone and smirked.<p>

"Desole, mon ami. How be Jubilee anyway?" he teased and heard the distinct snikt of Logan's claws and let out a hearty chuckle. Then there was a scuffle on the phone.

"Firecracker no, it's just, no don't do that darling," Logan seemed to whine.

"Heya Gambit, how like are you?" Jubilee's bell like voice rang out from the other line.

"Jus' fine petit and yoself?"

"Totally amazing!" Jubilee responded with a joyful sigh as Remy heard the phone being snatched out of her hand.

"Now Firecracker that's enough. What do ya want Gambit?"

Remy turned down into a small park and took a seat on a bench as he finished up the beignet he had bought. He tilted his head and thought about the best way to ask about this femme he had seen after all Logan was prone to getting heated. But maybe Remy could use Jubilee's presence to the best of his ability, she was after all the gossip of the X-Men he knew that much.

"Was jus' lookin' for some information, regarding someone y' know?"

"Really and who would that be?" Logan scoffed.

"A femme by de name of Rogue."

Remy heard the distinct sound of a growl and hoped that Logan wouldn't crush the receiver of the phone in anger as he had in the past. On the other end Logan was cursing quite loudly as Jubilee seemed only to giggle and try to calm down her lover. Remy waited impatiently as his friend came down from the heights of fury.

"How do you know about Rogue? What is she doin' that she's meeting types like you? What the hell is exactly going on in New Orleans?" Logan gritted out.

"She happened ta be mon waitress dis mornin'. Got some information dat she was a former X-Man; wanted ta make sure she knew de protocol we put in place, regarding de Guild laws and her not meddlin' in dem," Remy covered quickly. It was obvious that Logan was protective of this girl and the last thing he wanted to do was make him think that she was in any danger.

"Well she doesn't because nobody's heard from her in over three months. She left a couple of months after she took the cure, thought it had something to do with a boy she'd been seeing but now I'm not so sure. The last place we would have looked we be New Orleans. I'll be on a plane and there in the next few hours," Logan rushed.

"Non, its not necessary mon ami. From de looks of it dis femme don't wanna be bothered by y', dats why she left, non. So I'll keep an eye on her for ya and if anyt'ing worth reportin' comes up I'll give y' a call. Otherwise Wolvie, have a nice day and return to de fun I know y' and Jubilee were havin' befo' I so rudely interrupted. Au Revoir," Remy smiled through the phone as he hung and left a rather upset Wolverine on the other end. He knew that he had little time left to keep Logan from coming after the femme himself, but he would use that time to get as close to this femme as possible. He needed intel before he could report back anything that much he knew for sure.

_**A Few Hours Later**_

After taking a very long cat nap, Gambit awoke in his penthouse to the dimming light outside of his window. He rolled out from under an arm and out of his bed, stretching out his arms before standing up and opening the curtains wider to take a look down at the sprawling city of New Orleans before him. He smiled to himself; tonight would be his as it always was. He yawned lightly before taking his leave of his room for a hot shower; he would need to look more than just presentable if he was going to be wooing the femme of his dreams.

"Veronica mon petit, its time fo' y' ta leave," he stated to the slender blonde wrapped in his silk sheets.

"Why?" she yawned throwing him a sultry, thin-lipped smile.

"Because cherie, y' time wit Remy be up. Mais it was a bon time while it lasted, non," he mentioned before closing the door to the master bathroom to allow the woman time to adjust.

When Remy emerged from his shower she had gone and he smiled to himself somewhat regretfully. He wished that these women would know the protocol by now, but some of them just weren't up to code on the ethics of the one-night stand. He shook his head as he walked over to his bureau and extracted his clothing for the night's festivities. Tonight he was going to find out about that angelic femme from the diner and maybe have her squirming underneath him in pure and utter rapture. Yes, that sounded like a very good idea.

He dressed and groomed and just as the lights began to flicker on throughout the city Remy Etienne Lebeau made his way out of his suite and down the street towards the address he had gotten from the Guild database. It seemed that his angel worked two jobs and one was less than angelic. He grinned devilishly to himself. He knew tonight he was going to have fun.

When Remy arrived outside of the Bourbon Blues he wasn't surprised to see a few familiar faces. To say that he had made his way around the place would be an understatement, but nevertheless as he walked straight up to the bouncer there was more than a few less than pleased people behind him.

"Jonesy, belle night, non, mon ami!" Remy stated as he patted the rather large bald man with a clipboard and a stoic face on the back.

"Sure is Monsieur Lebeau, table for one or are you expecting guests?" the bouncer replied with a smile and a press of his headset.

"Non, just here fo' some fun on mon own, mais hopefully not fo' long huh Jonesy," Remy chuckled as he quirked his eyebrows at the bald man who returned the chuckle.

Bourbon Blues was one of the premier strip clubs on Bourbon Street and its bar was legend. Remy sifted through the crowd towards his VIP table set up on the deck, his table was always reserved whether he used it or not, it was one of the perks of being one of the owners of the club. Remy took a seat at his table and let his eyes wander the various bodies in the club. While the basis of the place was adult entertainment there was a great variety of folks here, the draw of Bourbon Blues was not just the women but the atmosphere which was classy rather than sleazy. Remy had insisted on more of a burlesque feel to the bar in order to keep the peace between all types of patrons that wished to have the experience of New Orleans.

Remy smiled to himself as he leaned back in his booth and watched the first round of girls come out. While this was not his main motive for coming, he was not one to deny himself the pleasure of watching beautiful women in any stage of undress. As he waited for the girl to make herself known to him he stared at the next woman to come out from behind the curtain, meek but beautiful nonetheless. Her auburn hair was up in a tight bun and she was wearing a bright green halter top dress decorated in sequins. He watched as the beauty walked out onto the stage swaying her thin hips back and forth before climbing up the center stage pole gracefully.

He smirked. She was definitely new. Only eyes as attuned as his to this sort of entertainment could have noticed her shaky limbs as she slid down. The patrons greeted her enthusiastically as she began to dance more. Her eyes never looked at any of them, hidden behind a large emerald masquerade style mask. Anonymity was a must for the dancers, especially in this city and Remy had made sure that Emil provided each dancer with a mask.

She finished her song and picked up the cash she had missed before she slowly made her way back behind the curtain, her head hanging low. This obviously was not a job she wanted but was forced to take under some sort of tragic circumstances. Remy sighed. So was the life of dancers of this type. He couldn't begrudge them a job, but couldn't ask for less than it entailed. She would most likely be let go soon, but not at his hand, rather Emil's.

Just as another round of music started up, Remy found himself needing a drink. He motioned to a nearby waitress and waited patiently. She was busy with another customer who was obviously giving her a hard time. She seemed to be handling herself quite well, Remy took note.

"Why don't y' give us a show, that's what I'd like to order. Some of y'. How much will it be?" a drunken VIP slurred as he hung off of his friend, putting a less than savory hand on the waitress's hip. She moved out of the way of his hand.

"Sorry sugah, Ah'm not part of the show. But if ya wait a lil longer Ah'm sure some girls will come out ta help ya. Otherwise, what else can Ah get ya'll ta drink," the waitress stated in faux grace. It was obvious she was irritated and wanted nothing more than to get the hell away from these men.

"Come on, everyone who works here is a whore, so give us a show, or we'll have ta take it from y'!" the drunk continued this time putting his hand square on her ass. The waitress appalled stepped away and glared.

"Sir if ya don't stop Ah'm gonna have ta call security and Ah know ya'd rather not make a scene, so please ya drink order," the waitress said authoritatively.

The drunk didn't give in; he pulled himself up almost falling over on to his friend before lurching towards the waitress. The waitress tried to step out of the way but the drunk was surprisingly fast. She felt the disgusting feeling of skin on her wrists and gritted her teeth and closed her eyes. She thought she was going to throw up and then surely lose her job. She was waiting for the groping and the tell tale sign of alcohol laced breath on her neck but none of it took place. She opened her eyes to see someone she had never expected to, the man with demon eyes from the diner. She gasped audibly as she watched him push the drunk back into his seat.

"Now homme, dat was not very polite. Dis femme jus' be tryin' ta take y' order now if y' don't like what's available on de menu den y'll have ta find somewhere else ta go," the demon eyed man threatened lightly. The waitress still in shock put her hand on the man's shoulder.

"Sugah its fine. Ah'll just get these men their drinks. Jack Daniels wasn't it boys?" the waitress asked as she looked into the blood red irises set on a sea of onyx. Her heart set a flame with fear and something more primal. She let out a breath as he stared at her.

"Non, cherie. Jonesy, Bernie I'm gonna need y' assistance at de VIP lounge. It seems we 'ave some less den wholesome customers dat need ta be shown de way out," Remy spoke into the walkie talkie he had in his trench. The waitresses green orbs widened at the sight of the device and Remy simply smiled politely. "Alright hommes it be ya time ta leave, now don't let me see y' round here again."

As the two bouncers began to ascend the stairs to the VIP lounge the drunk became angry. He once again tried to stand up only to fall back down on his fellow drunk. He pushed himself up and shook a fat finger at Remy.

"Jus' who do ya think ya are, pretty boy? Ya think ya call the shots, I hope ya know I'm gonna leave a complaint with your manager to get the both of you fired. I've been comin' here for almost a year and I won't be ousted by some whore and her pretty boy friend," he spat at Remy who merely smirked at him devilishly.

"Jonesy, Bernie, escort dese men out. And if ya would like ta file a complaint je vous en prie (please) do so," Remy chuckled as the two bouncer took hold of both men and dragged them down the stairs.

"You just wait pretty boy I'm gonna have your job!" the drunk yelled back at Remy who continued to smile and shake his head at the man.

"Go ahead and try mon ami," Remy yelled back with a simple two finger salute to the slowly disappearing bodies. He turned to the woman beside him and gave her a light smirk.

The waitress was still uneasy from the encounter and she held her arms around herself much like a child would. Remy turned around to face her back. He put a hand on her shoulder and she snapped her head back, her chestnut tresses swinging backward and her emerald eyes finding Remy's ruby on black ones.

"Y' okay chere?" Remy asked tentatively. He boldly put his hand underneath her chin to angle her face to his and her eyes widened in sudden fear. This man was gorgeous and powerful and dangerous she knew that much from what had happened. She shouldn't be letting him touch her, not in such an intimate fashion. She shifted underneath his touch and turned away again.

"Ah'm fine. Ah'm sorry fo' that sir, if there's anything Ah can do, maybe pick up some extra shifts ta pay fo' whatever damages or loss of cost from the customers, Ah will. Ah really need this job," the waitress spoke softly to the ground.

"Cherie, dere are always gonna be drunks at a bar. Don't worry 'bout it, we'll get two more jus' like dem in de next twenty minutes," Remy reassured her as she turned back around to face him.

"Ah'm sorry, it's just Ah'm going through a pretty tough time and need the cash," she confessed to him. She didn't know why but he made her feel safe. That didn't make very much sense, especially when she was staring into his blood red orbs.

"Come on cherie have a seat wit me and take a break, dere's no need ta worry," Remy gestured towards his booth but she would not follow but rather stared at him with wide eyes and a shake of her head.

"Ah can't mah boss would kill meh," she let out an exasperated sigh as she ran her hands through her hair.

"Cherie, I be de boss and I say y' can take a break," Remy let out simply, a wolfish grin hiding at the corners of his lips. He quirked his eyebrows and the waitress let out a deep breath.

"That doesn't make sense, Emil-" she continued under her breath.

"Emil is only de manager chere, name's Remy Lebeau main owner of Bourbon Blues and y' boss, bon ta meet y'," Remy held his hand out for the waitress and she took it thinking he meant to shake it but instead he held her knuckles up to his lips placing a subtle, simple kiss on each staring up at her the entire time. She felt her knees buckle and her skin ignite with sudden pleasure. This man was more than dangerous.

"Ah don't know-"

"I will not be taking no fo' an answer petit," once again Remy gestured to the booth. This was the moment he had been waiting for the whole night. She reluctantly took a seat in the booth sliding her alabaster legs along the leather, her heels clicking on the tile of the floor. Remy watched as she flushed pink as he took his seat next to her, shedding his trench coat to reveal his red silk shirt, her eyes catching on the fabric and then on his eyes.

"This is the first time Ah've seen ya here," the waitress began carefully. Remy smiled.

"Oui, dat's because I've been in Paris on business fo' de past few months," Remy replied as he stared into the deep emeralds of the waitresses eyes. The waitress quirked one of her eyebrows skeptically.

"Quoi, bon businessmen have more dan one venture ta put dere money in, Rogue."

The waitresses eyes widened once again and she let out a nervous, "H-h-how do ya know mah name?"

Remy shook his head. "Well aside from catching it dis mornin' at de diner, y' are an employee of mien (mine)."

"Ah think Ah should get back to work," Rogue motioned to stand up and scoot out of the booth when Remy caught her wrist his eyes catching hers in a smoldering gaze that set her heart galloping in her chest and her skin alight with shots of electricity. The mere feeling of his skin on hers was sinful in the worst way and it seemed that just his touch sent images of things that should be kept private running through her mind.

"Rogue, please I would like ta get ta know y' a li'l better," Remy stated he had to stop himself from licking his lips. She just looked so delicious the way she wore the simple navy blue tank top with the neon 'Bourbon Blues' written simply across it, a pair of tight black shorts hugging her hips.

"Ah don't know if that's a good idea. Ya getting' ta me when I know I don't wanna know ya," Rogue said boldly. He knew she meant it. Knew she was scared of the implications of his gaze, of the way he knew who she was now. He smiled and Rogue knew the devil himself must be after her with his demon eyed gaze and wolfish grin. She felt herself begin to give in.

"Ahh but cherie y' wanna know moi."

Rogue felt her mind fall to the way side as her body took control and pushed her back into the booth, the demon eyes reeling her in.


	3. When the Unpredictable Happens

Chapter 3- When the Unpredictable Happens

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><p><em>The first touch always leaves the deepest imprint<em>

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><p>Rogue was cursing herself. She knew she didn't want to know him. Knew he was a dangerous man. Knew that those blood red orbs were a warning to women like her, a warning to stay as far away as possible. You would have thought she had already learned her lesson about playing with dangerous men. Her hand grazed her still bruised eye. She wasn't thinking about him, not now. There was too much else going on to remember him.<p>

Rogue was being overcome by too many sensations to remember anything besides how to breathe. Her back was pressed firmly against a door, a pair of lips searing her skin with their rough kisses, marking their territory with biting and gnawing. She could feel the soft caress of cotton against her thighs as he ground his hips into hers and she let out a simple moan. This was not supposed to be happening. She should have thought of him, should have let him stop her. She knew he wasn't enough to stop her.

She heard the jingle of keys as the door beneath her back began to give way and she could feel herself falling into the gap before a pair of large firm hands caught a hold of her and began to run their perfectly calloused pads down her spine in blissful patterns that were making her nerve endings shiver. They danced forward as he guided her past the various trappings in his apartment. Her mind was foggy, the only thoughts running through her head consisting of how they had gotten here and exactly where they were going, she tried to focus on the going part.

She felt a tug at her naked thigh and then suddenly she was up, hoisted on his hips, her ankles crossed behind the small of his back. She let her head hang back as he positioned his lips at the tops of her breasts. He was making her insane with the simple feeling of touch, she had never experienced anything like this; this was so foreign, so new, so amazing that anything close to this was no comparison. She wondered idly if anything like this had ever happened to her. Once again she was pushed up against an object, this time it was a wall in the hallway that she assumed led to his bedroom. She felt a pull at her tank top and pushed her arms straight up as his hands grazed up from her waist, to her ribs, to her shoulders bringing the fabric along with him.

Ridded of her shirt, she stared down at him coyly a blush beginning at the peaks of her cheeks. He smiled, that devilish grin making itself known at the corners of his lips as his eyes flamed in the darkness of the room and Rogue felt her body quiver with excitement at that look, the one of pure lust, it was enough to send her into fits of pleasure on its own.

Remy licked his lips as he began to lavish the tops of her breasts. He had known that this was where the night would lead but in the pit of his stomach he knew there was something different about her, about the way she had so willingly given into him but almost with air of regret. He had seen it from women before but there was something different about this one. He tried to focus on her skin and the way it tasted and his mind was quickly fogged over with the ideas of sinful excursions he was going to take her on.

He ground his hips once more into hers as he felt her buck up against him, his groin was tensing and he knew she could feel it. As he was whispering dirty things in French into her ear, nibbling on the sweet flesh there he felt her hand move in between them as she began to undo the fly of his slacks. He let out a hiss into her ear and Rogue smiled. She had definitely never gotten that kind of reaction from a man before.

Remy pulled his body away from her, his hands pressed on either side of the wall as she began to slowly unbutton his shirt, her eyes glued to his, those emerald green pools filled with a lusty gaze that he could have lost himself in for the rest of his life. He pulled her into a deep kiss, swallowing her moans of surprise as his tongue clashed with hers. He pulled away and was shocked as her teeth caught hold of his bottom lip and pulled playfully. He shook with need for her. He was going to devour her.

He picked her up from her thighs and rushed to his bed, looking down at the sheets that had just been replaced. God he loved maids. He laid her down on the bed as he stripped himself of his shirt, pushing her lithe body up towards the pillows. His hands grazed her waist and down her hips as he began to yank the tight fabric from her perfect alabaster thighs to reveal the place he needed most. He could have sworn he was drooling like some dog. Had any other woman ever done this to him? He shook his head, he wasn't drooling, he was just enamored by the beauty of such an angel. He rid her of the shorts and all that was left was the silky green fabric that clung to her breasts and groin. He let out a small hiss. Even that was too much.

Before Remy could protest, Rogue caught his lips in a searing kiss as she continued to nibble at his lips making them red with blood. The way they tasted was absolutely luscious, a mix of sweet and smoky that she was addicted to, a taste that permeated his body. Her hands followed the natural peaks and planes of his body, running from his sturdy shoulders, down his firm biceps to the toned rivets of his stomach, up his ribs until she finally reached his hips. She smirked against his lips as she pulled his slacks down his thighs, she needed this, needed him. She knew she shouldn't, knew this demon eyed man could be the end of her, but she knew the end would be more than rapturous and god did she need his rapture.

She felt the insistent buck of his hips as the fabric fell to the floor and she finally took a look at his face. His eyes were practically on fire and she felt her body become even more tensed as she fell back his hands taking control and pushing her wrists above her head with one hand as he rid her of the rest of the fabric clinging to her skin. His lips found her breasts once again, taking a plump nipple in between and sucking and nibbling becoming more and more stiff with her every moan and mewl of approval. His fingers had made their way down to her entrance, warm and waiting for him, god she was perfect. He was slow at first, teasing as he played with her breasts, his lips moving in time with his fingers, listening to her gasps to keep himself steady. He could hear her undoing, waiting for the tell tale sign.

"Re-Rem-Remy!" she let out as her body shook underneath him.

He was far from done. He kissed her lips as she gasped for air, her chest heaving sinfully from each breath. He kissed down from her lips to her jaw, moving along her neck, down the sides of her breasts, her ribs, her waist, twirling his tongue along her navel, as he held his hands against both of her thighs. She gasped in shock as she felt his kiss move to a more intimate place and her hands caught hold of the silk sheets digging her nails deep into the mattress. His expert tongue swirled around her insides as his thumb kept pace against her bundle of nerves. She had felt the heights already and he was bringing her to the edge once more, why? She couldn't think because he was so amazing at was he was doing his tongue moving in and out and circling her clit. She was going to surely die from an overload of pleasure. Suddenly she felt her body shake as she was brought over the edge, his tongue delving deep within her, hitting the threshold of her body.

Remy pulled back from her hips as he laid his cheek against her stomach, playfully tracing patterns in her taut skin, placing a tentative kiss on her thighs. As her breathing began to settle, she pulled at his hair bringing his lips up to hers for another kiss. Remy had never tasted anything better than her lips until her had found that special place deep within her folds and knew the most delectable thing he would ever tasted in his life. She nibbled at his lips once more as he laid on his side, his hand on her hips, the other propping himself up on his elbow.

He felt her hands snake down between them and was not surprised at their destination but that didn't stop him from hissing out as her delicate hands found their grip around his shaft and began to pump, her crimson lips taking in small breaths as she stared at him as she continued to pump. He gritted his teeth and laid on his back as she moved over him. Her other hand snaked down and spread his legs apart and he knew where this was leading and tried to stop himself from swearing but a slew of French curses escaped his lips.

"Merde!" he gasped as Rogue's plump red lips found their way around his tip.

Her hands continued to pump as she swirled her tongue around him, bobbing her head slowly along him as best she could, he was larger than she was used to in length and width and so she kept up as best she could using her hands. Remy could feel himself give over to his need as she continued, her hot little mouth soaking him in sweat as he came close to the threshold of pleasure. Her hands braced against his hips as he began to buck up unintentionally. She took all of him in at that point and with the simple hallowing out of her cheeks felt him pour himself into her.

Remy couldn't believe such a thing had happened until she had found her way up to him, gnawing at his ear and jaw line as her hands still caressed his thighs. He could feel himself growing stiff once more and the tingle she had left in his skin renewing itself. She sat atop him her folds drenching him as he grew underneath her. She bit her lip and closed her eyes in wanton as she felt him stiffen. She ran her hands down his chest once more as she pulled herself off of him enough for him to position himself at her entrance. He pulled her lips down to his as he pushed inside her, her fingers clawing at his arms as he swallowed her screams.

She was tight and Remy started off at a slow pace to allow her to adjust to him. She gritted her teeth as she rocked her hips against him and felt every inch of him as it pulled out and pushed in. She was going insane. She needed him to go faster, needed to reach that place that only he could take her to. She bucked up against him, urging him to break this rhythm and seeing the lust in her eyes, Remy quickly flipped their position, feeling her underneath him. He took a hold of her breasts kneading the pert pink pebbles as he once again kept at his teasing pace, smirking down at her as she mewled in need. He was too good though because soon he was becoming irritated with the slowness and without warning he slammed into her forcefully, hitting the point within her that set the colors dancing across her eyelids.

Rogue's chest heaved with every thrust as he pushed farther and farther into her and she felt her body shudder and shiver screaming out as she quivered beneath him and he continued not yet reaching his peak. She was spent her body still being played to that unpassable note when with a final thrust he hit her spot and she was sent once more into a fit of screams as they both cried out in ecstasy. Rogue knew this was a dangerous game and tonight the demon eyed man had won.

_**A Few Hours Later**_

The dawn was beginning to break over the city when they had finally had their fill of each other. Remy had to admit that he had never met a woman whose appetite rivaled his, until he laid eyes on this green eyed angel. They lay across one another, tired, spent, exhausted in every way physically possible. He was happy and sated but there was a feeling in his stomach that was gnawing at him. He felt the warm soft flesh beneath him move and the pit of his gut clenched. His limbs were tossed aside as the young woman threw her legs over the side of the bed and grasped her masses of chestnut locks, swirling them up into a bun.

"Where y' goin, chere," Remy asked, still out of breath from their last round.

His fingers trailed down her spine then up again to her neck, marveling at the alabaster encasement that held such beauty. He watched as her skin literally crawled up the rivets of her spin as she pinned her hair up. She flashed him a sly smile over her shoulder looking back down at the man his shoulder length auburn hair clouding his beautiful, dangerous eyes. She shivered again and his eyes glinted with a devilish expression that took her breath away.

She watched his hand as it crept forward making its way around her hip once more, pulling with strong deft hands, so that she was lying on top of him once more her head at his navel positioned sideways. She cocked her elbow out and used it to support herself as she gazed at the mirth in his eyes slightly annoyed.

"Ah have ta leave Swamp Rat," Rogue's lips pursed as she said the words her hand trailing across his skin, his taut skin, his taut tanned skin she thought to herself as she sighed hoping he would think it only her frustration.

"Quoi, didn't have a bon enough time last night?" Remy posed with another glint. She rolled her eyes.

"Maybe Ah didn't," Rogue said as she once again wriggled out of his grasp and to the edge of the bed.

"Y' wound me chere," Remy said playfully pulling his hand across his heart in mock pain. She rolled her eyes again as she stepped into her underwear. Remy marveled at her half nude form as she stood up and stared at him, unashamed of herself. This one obviously was well versed in the one night stand code of ethics, or at least he thought she must be, despite the innocence so latent in her eyes.

"Well Ah apologize but Ah really have ta go," Rogue stated as she gathered up her bra and clasped it back on herself.

"Would y' like me ta give y' a ride."

"Ah don't think that'd be a good idea," Rogue said continuing to get dressed as Remy sat in his bed watching her with intent eyes. The way he looked at her even fully dressed gave her chills. She knew that was bad, horrible, could lead only to horrible things. Like last night.

"Pourquoi?" Remy asked finally sitting all the way up in his bed, the sheets gathered around his waist in a way that made Rogue bite her lip to keep from groaning.

" 'Cause last night was a mistake and Ah really have some place Ah have ta be," Rogue said slightly annoyed at his perseverance.

"Ahh cherie, y' didn't think last night was a mistake last night,"

"Uhhh, look Ah really need ta go," Rogue bit back as she turned around, the last thing she expected were to have his arms wrap around her waist or his intoxicating scent at her nect.

"Y' know I don't give dis offer ta jus' anyone chere," Remy purred against her neck, nibbling at the perfect flesh there. Rogue let out a moan and Remy could feel himself stiffen against her yet again. Mon Dieu this woman would be the end of him.

"Ah'm sure ya don't make this offer ta jus' anyone. Ah'm sure ya make it ta every pretty girl ya see in a diner or at ya bar," Rogue bit back quietly and heard his throaty chuckle against her neck. He kept his ministrations. "Exactly how many employees have seen this room, Cajun?"

She felt him shrug against her as his lips moved up her jaw. "Jus' one."

Rogue spun around to face him, staring back at those deep red orbs, smoldering at her in the dim light of day. She gritted her teeth and he merely grinned back at her devilishly, his hands securely at her hips. She pushed forward, pressing her chest against his before catching his lips in another feverish kiss, swallowing his moans of approval, raking her nails across his back, nibbling at his lips. She suddenly broke it pressing her hands against his chest and pushing herself back as best she could. His arms were steel hardened cages holding her in his embrace.

"Ah really have ta go," Rogue's voice was acid as she stared at the dangerous man.

"Y' said dat already petit, mais I don't see y' goin' anywhere," Remy's hands eased their grips as he began to stroke her shoulders.

Rogue spun back around and out towards the door.

"See y' around chere," Remy called after her, still standing in the same spot long after she had slammed shut the front door.

Yes she had been quite a catch. But she was worth more than just a one night stand, that much her knew, that much he could tell from the mark left around her eye at the diner, and the sass with which she addressed him this morning. There was something about her. Something that was dangerous, and he couldn't help himself but be enthralled with the idea of her danger.


	4. The Guilt That Eats Away

_**A/N: So I want to thank everyone for their interest so far, there is much more to come. As always thank you for the reviews and please do not be afraid to post more I am more than happy to hear all of your comments and enjoy looking at my email to see that I have reviews. **_

_**As far as updating goes, I am hoping to be slightly quicker with the pace but there's no insurance that it will not be awhile. I'll attempt to at least update once a week but my life is pretty hectic at the moment and I have other works in progress on this site and my own little pieces so I am sorry if it takes a while for the story to continue. **_

_**WARNING: This chapter is especially graphic in reference to physicality of the unpleasant kind so if you are squeamish in anyone please read with discretion. Otherwise enjoy.**_

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><p>Chapter 4 The Guilt That Eats Away<p>

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><p><em>Stab my back Its better when I bleed for you_

"_Stab My Back"- The All American Rejects_

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><p>Rogue rushed into the elevator and out of the high end apartment as fast as she could. She was sure there were people staring at her and she knew she could hear the whispers.<p>

"Lebeau's new lay."

"Sure is a pretty one."

"Think she'll stick around?"

Her skin was crawling. She didn't know if she should be angry, furious at him for luring her into such a deceptive and manipulative plot or at herself for allowing something like this to happen. She was supposed to be cautious, clear-headed Rogue, not the kind of girl who just jumped into bed with just any man who gave her half the attention she thought she deserved but that's exactly what had happened last night. She was mentally hitting herself still and then she remembered exactly what she had felt last night and a shiver was immediately sent up her spine and down her arms.

"Damn that Cajun," Rogue cursed under her breath as she hailed a cab and took a seat in the back.

She directed the driver to her destination and spent the rest of the ride pondering her guilt. She should have let him stop her, should have listened when he said not to, but she didn't. She needed last night, because as sad as it was it was the first time she had felt affection in a long time. Sure the affection was heavily masked by desire and lust, but she knew it was there, could sense that much from this morning. That was indeed very dangerous.

She paid the taxi driver and gathered herself as she stood outside the cold, clean building. A chill ran down her body as she stared up at the thick windows and the pristine look of it. She shook her head loose of all thoughts of last night, of the Cajun perfection that made her sweat at just the thought of what he was capable of doing with expert hands and fingers.

"Pull yaself togetha, girl. Can't go in there actin' all crazy over some-" Rogue finished the sentence with a growl, walking up to the building, her purse grasped tightly in her hand.

She walked the halls with experience, passing all the people with upset faces and downtrodden expressions. She gave each a meek smile; she always felt out of place here, she didn't really have to wonder why. She didn't belong, especially after what she had done last night. She took in a deep breath as the regret hit her stomach again. She stood outside of the door, staring at the placard with the name written simply underneath the room number. She knew she shouldn't have come but she had to, it was her fault after all.

Rogue entered the room, her shoulders hunched, tiptoeing in. She could hear the respirators, the steady beep of the heart monitor. She closed her eyes as she stepped forward, not daring to look down at the body inhabiting the bed. Surely it was enough that this person haunted her nightmares, unrelenting in their attack on her mind.

Rogue opened her eyes and stared down at the limp, lifeless body. The tubes running out of the mouth, out of the arms, cords running to and from machines each keeping time with the other in order to keep the body in its lifeless form. At least that's what Rogue thought. She stared down at the woman, her pale blond hair long and dull, her eyes closed. She forced herself to swallow the image, to look on because it was what she deserved, to be haunted.

Rogue took a seat in one of the chairs crossing her legs and hunching over like a child as she gazed. "Hi Carol," she managed out as she began to tear up.

"How've ya been? Oh me, rough night. No, not this time, met a guy. Ah know, Ah know, Ah shouldn't have done it but it was a onetime thing. At least Ah hope it was," Rogue continued her voice gaining strength with each word.

"He's probably at home. At least that's what Ah think. Anyhow, Ah just stopped by don't mean ta disturb ya, Ah have ta be goin' anyways-" Rogue stopped midsentence as a doctor had suddenly walked in, a clipboard in his hands.

Rogue's face turned ashen as she stared at the man with wide eyes. He gave her a meek reassuring smile as he looked from her to the body in the bed.

"Hello Ms. Darkholme, how are you?" he asked simply looking over his charts as he spoke.

"Fine Dr. Yeats, yaself?" Rogue returned as she stood up.

"Good, good. You know there's no need to feel embarrassed about talking to her, a lot of families feel it necessary to keep up hope," the doctor smiled a Rogue once more before going over to one of the machines and adjusting something. Rogue stood awkwardly for a moment not knowing what to do or where to go.

"Well Ah best be goin' Docta, have ta get ta work," Rogue stated lingering in the door.

"Oh Rogue, I wanted to talk to you about how Carol's been doing," the doctor rushed after her before she could make it to the hall. Rogue turned and gave a somewhat frightened but interested expression, quirking her eyebrows in acknowledgement.

"Yes."

"Her vitals haven't changed and seeing as it has been quite a while that she's been in a coma, we are going to ask the next of kin to sign off on her termination," the words bit into her like ice, like the face the doctor was making, a grimace at the chart he held in his hands as he scoured the information. She meant nothing to him. Just another cow for slaughter. Rogue felt her stomach quiver in the worst way.

"She has very strong organs still and we're fearful that if she stays in this condition they could be compromised making her candidacy as an organ donor less than likely," the doctor told Rogue staring into her eyes with an almost pleading expression.

"Ah see," Rogue commented, gripping her purse again.

"I just thought you should know."

"Well thank ya Docta, Ah'll make sure ta say goodbye the next time Ah see her," Rogue gritted out before turning around and making her way down the hall and out towards the street.

Her day had started off so well. No, it hadn't. She had felt guilt, more guilt than ever before with this new information being added. And now she had to go home and face the one person who would make her feel even worse about it all. She should have listened to him. It was her fault. She should have listened.

She found the cabbie, paid her fair, directed him back towards the place she never ever really wanted to return to. She had to go. The thought sent chills down her spine. It was home. And it wasn't hers. She watched as he passed through the smiling streets of New Orleans, the happy faces.

It was funny to think that tragedy had struck so many not but a few years prior and yet here they were, those who had lived through the tragedy, smiling, celebrating. Only in New Orleans. The city gave her hope and stole it from her. No he did that. She would never admit.

The cabbie dropped her off about a mile from her destination. It was her request. She didn't want to show up in a cab. He would know, would be looking for her, at least she hoped he wouldn't. She knew he would.

She made her way down the small lane, lined with nice homes. None were hers. At least he wouldn't allow her to call it hers, no matter how much she pleaded with him.

_Ya_ _stole something from me. Ya owe me, ya remember that. _His words still echoed in her head, even know, even after what had happened. She knew it had nothing to do with that, but sometimes she wished it did. Sometimes she wished she didn't have to feel so guilty.

She walked down the street, children busily playing in the fragmented light casted down from the trees, giving the place a glow that reminded her of better times. She knew there were no good times to be had, not here, not for her.

Her footsteps made little noise against the stoop as she clambered up slowly. She didn't want to be here. She had nowhere else to go. She had made a promise to herself long ago, long before the Cure. Storm had said it made her vulnerable; weak. She was right, but she was weak and vulnerable before she even took the Cure. She didn't, hadn't changed. Her power didn't take away from the fact that deep down she was still Anna Marie. The weak little girl. She had been deadly and now she was just used up and dead; walking, breathing, but dead.

Rogue opened the door, listening as it creaked under her weight, wincing at the sound. She hoped no one was awake. Hoped her absence had gone unnoticed.

"Rogue that betta be ya!" she heard the voice shriek from somewhere deep within the bowels of the house. Her shoulders immediately flew upward as she gritted her teeth. She had been caught.

She padded lightly through the house, the hallways winding this way and that. It was large, but seemed so cramped, seemed as if she had nowhere to hide, not from her fears, not from her regret, not from her guilt, not from _him_.

She continued until she found the voice, in the living room. She shivered unconsciously. It was always so cold in this house. Or maybe it was just her. The heat permeated from the outside and she felt sweat beading up on her neck and forehead. Her skin felt like ice beneath her fingertips. Always so cold.

The room was dark, only the light filtering in from the shutters, illuminating the dust swirling made anything visible. She narrowed her eyes, spotting the man, his feet set upon the coffee table, lounged casually in the recliner. The television wasn't on; the beer in his hand was empty, as were the packs that lay in a cluster around him. He was staring into the dark and it gave her goose bumps in the worst way.

_Ya owe me your life. Don't ever forget it._

"Where in the hell have ya been?" the man in the recliner stated simply, she couldn't see his face, it was angled away from her but she could hear the despise thick in his words.

"Got caught up at work, ended up havin' ta pull a double shift fo' another waitress," Rogue lied. She hadn't moved. Was too scared to. He wasn't a dangerous man. He was just a boy. She reassured herself that every time she walked into the house. Not hers, not his, the. It was just another part of the torture.

"The hell ya did. Get over here, now!" his voice was authoritative, laced with resentment and she shuddered. He was just a boy. The boy she remembered. Angelic blue eyes and fair blond hair. He wasn't a demon, wasn't the devil, not until now. She mustered up the memories, all she got were tragic ones, were painful ones, were frightening ones.

'_Ya did this to me. Now I get to do this to you.' His hands wrapped around her throat. She wished for her powers, wished she could drain him. He'd make sure she would. He'd make sure she was dead before he continued. She was dead long before he killed her; he put the final nail in her coffin._

Rogue sauntered slowly over to the recliner, gazing down at his heaped mass of a body, no longer gangly with youth, no longer emaciated from sickness, just thick and ghastly. He disgusted her. She owed him. She was payment. He was her retribution. She owed him.

She looked into the blue eyes seething with demonic need and fury. Her palms were sweaty. His hair cut close to his ears, making those eyes shine evermore with the hatred she knew she deserved. She took a deep breath; the stubble at his chin didn't suit him, her mind fogged over with memories of the other, the warmth he radiated, his touch and how it made her ache, not the way this ice had but a dull throbbing, not in her flesh but in her heart. She shook her head loose of the memories. The demon eyes she seemed only to encounter wherever she turned. She deserved it. She deserved pain. Which was worse the angelic blue or the demon red?

His grip snaked around her wrists in a cold eerie feeling that made her think of home. Not this one. Not the old one. The one in his arms, the one that would never be home. The warmth she wished for, now followed by the cold intensity of his azure eyes. She flinched; she knew what was to come.

"Ya foolin' around?" It wasn't a question, wasn't a statement. It was a mockery. He knew as well as she did what she was when they met, the first and second time. She flinched.

"Ya bein' a whore at that place, fuckin' all those li'l boys ta get money," his grip hardened and he jerked her forward into his lap. His face inches from hers. Her eyes shut tight. She was shaking, fear coursing through her veins.

She didn't respond. Didn't defend. It would only add fuel to the fire. She wished she could stick up for herself. Yell and kick and scream and tell him that she wasn't a whore. Tell him that she'd found someone who actually wanted her, make him think she'd found better. He'd just laugh. She didn't defend, there was no use. She bit her tongue, literally, couldn't chance talking, couldn't chance getting it worse because she had been stupid. She bit her tongue.

"Ya're mine. Don't eva forget it. Ya're mine. I'll kill ya befo' ya're anyone else's. Ya hear me bitch," his words were stabbing her ears. His teeth mere centimeters from her, threatening their painful assault. He snapped and she cried. He snickered.

"Ya're mah whore. Ya owe me, I own ya. Ya stole away ten years of mah life. I own ya," his fist made contact with her eye again. It stung and bled. She didn't feel it. She was already dead. He had killed her long ago. She wished for the other's demon eyed gaze. It was filled with warmth. She was tired of the cold.

"Ah'm sorry Cody, so sorry," her voice was weak, she got another slap.

"Ya're not sorry. Ya're death. Ya're evil wrapped up in a pretty little body. Now I have control. I own ya. Ya're poison doesn't work anymore. Ya're mine. And I take what I want."

"Ah love ya Cody," her voice was still weak. His eyes twinged with wrath. A knee to the stomach. She coughed. He snickered again. She wondered if he heard her say 'loved'. Wondered if she had even said the past tense version.

"Ya love nothin'. Ya're just a whore. But ya're mine, ya're mah whore," he yanked at the chestnut locks.

"Ya hear meh!" another pull, her face tensed, her teeth bared in pain.

"Ya hear meh, bitch!" another forceful jerk.

"Ya hear meh, ya're mah whore! And I can take ya, can fuck ya whenever I want. Ya hear meh, whore!" his fist made contact with her face yet again. Her lip burst. Blood pooled. She tasted a tinge of iron. She wouldn't cry.

"Ah love ya, Cody," it was the only way she got through the pain. She had loved him. She deluded herself into believing he was still the same boy from the river. The first boy she kissed. The first boy she loved. Loved. Why couldn't she love him? She loved him. Not anymore. Her mantra.

"Ah love ya Cody." They both knew it was a lie. He used it to be volatile, a regular beast, a monster. She used it to get through the pain. They each used it, the lie. It was their life.

"Ya don't know how ta love, ya devil woman," his lips tore a kiss from hers, teeth scraping against plump red flesh. Tasting her blood and becoming sated on it. He needed more.

He tore her clothes off. Angry and straining. She let it come. Closed her eyes as he worked over her. He was cold, ice. His fingers yanked at her flesh, bruises and bites. She was damaged goods, he made sure of that. He pushed her face down into the carpet, bashed it into the wood of the chair. She didn't cry out, didn't flinch. He labored over her, teeth tearing into skin. She gritted hers. He finished and kicked her once in the stomach.

She hoped he smelled him on her. Hoped the heat melted some of the ice. She wanted his demon eyes. She had had enough of the glaciers in his eyes.

"Ya're mine," he walked away. His stench still on her skin. She didn't cry. She had done that before. She was dead now. It was cold in hell. She wanted flames, burning red flames, she needed those demon eyes. She would never admit.


	5. Withdrawals and Relapses

_**A/N: Okay so I know I said I would wait a week but I just couldn't help myself. This may be the last update for awhile so I hope it suffices. As far as content wise this chapter is slightly on the short side, at least for my current standards but its subject to change. **_

_**As always please read with a keen eye for criticism I am always up to correct my work if there are grammatical or spelling issues and pretty please review, if I get at least five reviews on this chapter in the next couple of days I may update sooner, no I will update sooner ;). So without further adieu here is the next installment. Enjoy!**_

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><p>Chapter 5- Withdrawls and Relapses<p>

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><p><em>There's something in her eyes.<em>

_There's something in his stare._

_I find myself always there._

_Needing him._

_Needing her._

_Needing us._

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><p>It wasn't long. She didn't expect it. She didn't think she would be going back for more. But he had made it easy, he was always there, gazing at her with his warmth. With those affection laced eyes, those flames that drew her in, that threatened to melt her ice, soothe her soul. She didn't want to make it a habit but he was addicting. She hated that, those spices, that warmth. She couldn't get enough.<p>

It was a couple of nights before Remy Lebeau had made his way back into Bourbon Blues. He had made excuses; told himself he really didn't want to go. His body was urging him to, needing the soft of her flesh beneath him, to hear that moan, to feel her nails rake across his back and groan into those seductive lips.

He had avoided it for a couple of nights. Tried to find other lays all the while knowing that the green eyed vixen he had spotted in the diner was the one he imagined he was laying that night. He tried to suffocate her memory with blondes, red heads, never brunettes. They were too close to the real thing despite the missing white locks that felt like silk between his fingers, curled around his skin.

Remy had known the second he saw her in that diner he had been hooked, like some sort of fish. She was a predator disguised as prey and he didn't care, he took the bait. Something about that purple stained skin set his body on edge. He wanted to know her, know her skin, know her life, know her words, know her moans. God he was addicted and he hated it.

He walked into Bourbon Blues, he had been there for three hours already, disguising his appearance as business, Emile knew he wasn't there for that. If there was anything that Remy was good at it was handling business, knowing how to keep things professional even with his cousin. Remy may not have been a serious man but when it came to business he knew how to fake enough to make people think he was serious and take him seriously in turn.

If there was one thing Jean-Luc Lebeau had taught his sons it was how to conduct themselves in a professional manner; and how to steal and steal well. Sure, Gambit may have been a young master thief with the need to prove himself and defy all the rules. But Remy Lebeau on the other hand, he was the Prince of Thieves, was the professional, was the gentleman. Gambit was le diable blanc, Remy was the man with simple tastes and commercial ideas. Remy was an entrepreneur.

When Remy showed up to Bourbon Blues Emile could not have laughed louder. The man was dressed in his usual silk shirt and slacks, his trench hanging off of his shoulder, dangling on a fingertip. But the look in his eyes screamed need. He had never seen his cousin looking as desperate, as well him.

"Homme when was de last time y' got laid!" Emile smacked his cousin on the back as he guided him into the back room towards the office portion of the club.

"Y' funny cousin. How much y' wanna bet it's been longer since y' been laid," Remy grimaced as he poked back. He wasn't really in the mood for jokes; especially from Emile. Emile quickly shut up, his scowl imminent on his face.

"So whatcha doin' here cuz. Not exactly de line up one wit fine tastes such as ourselves appreciates today," Emile stated taking a seat in the large leather chair set behind a massive dark wooden desk filled with invoices and bills in various stages of payment and shipments.

Remy walked up behind him and smacked him once good behind the head. Emile squealed.

"Get de hell outta mon chair homme, before I kick y' ass," Remy grinned as his cousin quickly shifted out of the leather chair behind the desk to a simple wooden one on the other side. Remy sunk into the upholstery a pondering expression in his eyes setting the burning even more.

"So I'll ask again cuz, why y' be here," Emile was gazing down at his fingernails in an attempt at nonchalance. Remy couldn't help but roll his eyes. The man lacked any tact, no wonder he wasn't approved for the Guild until he was nineteen. He was the oldest entrant in their history. Remy chuckled at the memory.

"I'm here mon grubby cousin because dis business of ours ain't bein' run de way it should, d'accord," Remy bit back at his cousin who seemed merely to shrug off his response.

"So y' gonna do de invoices or somet'in or are y' gonna tell moi why y' really here?" Emile posed and Remy gave him the glare, the le diable blanc glare, the glare he used to give him when they were children and would send him hurtling up the nearest tree for fear of Remy's wrath. Remy wasn't surprised that it still worked.

"Y' not Tante or Mercy, so y' can't talk ta moi like dat, y' hear me, Emile," Remy over pronounced every word so that he got the gist that Remy wasn't going to put up with his bullshit, especially not today.

"Well den boss I'll leave y' to it. I'm gonna go ogle-I mean check- on de girls," Emile stated resentfully as he exited the office.

Remy sat in the office his hands roughly pulling through the long strands of his auburn hair. All he could picture was her, those green eyes sparkling like emeralds, that creamy skin soft and delicious. Why couldn't he get her out of his head? The moans, the pants ran through his head constantly. How many times had he relived that night in his dreams?

And then there was that purple hue on her eye, the scrape on her lip. The little things he had noticed at the diner. They weren't the only ones. He had remembered undressing her, not seeing the blemishes at first. They were the least of his worries, his primal urges taking over when their bodies were pressed that close together, but there was the times after that, the points when his mind wasn't so fogged over. And he saw those marks. The bruise on her shoulder, the welt on her ribs, the scratches on her thighs. How could he have let them all go?

Remy gritted his teeth. She was someone else's. He knew that much. Could tell that much. But this person was far from a man. He was a demon. She was an angel. A dangerous fallen angel. Remy yanked at his hair again and let out an animalistic growl.

His fists made contact with the antique wooden desk and it shook from the impact. He took in a deep breath. He wasn't this type of man. He wasn't supposed to get attached. Not to a waitress, not to an X-Man former or not, not to a woman. But she had been running through his mind. He had no control anymore and it infuriated him. One night and she had taken over him, infiltrated his life with her beauty, with her pain. Couldn't he see it in her eyes? Would she know his pain as well?

He shook his head and smoothed his hair back with another breath. He needed to get his head straight. She was just another femme. He knew she wasn't. He didn't care.

_**A Few Hours Later**_

She had seen him sitting in her section. She knew he had done it on purpose, waited for her shift to emerge from the shadows, his demon eyes casting burning fires in her heart. She could feel his warmth from across the room, from the depths of the shadows of the back room where he hid beneath his trench, the ember of his cigarette glowing but no comparison to the flames of his irises.

She had ignored him purposely. She may have been waiting the VIP section and he may have been the owner but she knew deep down that he was just trying to rile her up. He had been watching her. His eyes glued to her and every once and awhile she would catch herself gazing back into his eyes, his narrowed gaze paired with that simple grin that made her shake her head. She finished cleaning up a table as last call for the bar came around.

The final dancer emerged from the curtain, the men pooled around her like ravenous wolves, drooling while entranced with their prey. She sauntered this way and that and their teeth bared in response, she looked so innocent.

Rogue was disgusted and let out a disgruntled cough as she wiped up the remnants of the drinks the set of VIP's had left for her. He was still in his back booth watching her with intent eyes, his posture relaxed as he leaned back in the booth, both arms resting a top the leather seats.

She walked right passed him without a thought, wiping her hands on the dish towel set in her apron and as she made her way past the first step of the stairs she heard his voice.

"Where y' been cherie? Haven't seen y' in a while," Remy's words wafted down to her ears filled with fire and lust and damnation. She had to fight back the yearning churning in her stomach.

Rogue stopped in her tracks. She didn't move was frozen but not with fear. No this emotion was much more primal, much more necessary than fear. She felt the breath slowly creep down her neck, the fingers dance down her ribs and into the pocket of flesh between her tank top and her shorts. She let out a small gasp at the connection.

"Ya know Mr. Lebeau, what ya're doin' could be considered sexual harassment," Rogue bit out. Her tone may have been defiant but her body spoke volumes. Her backside made contact with his groin, her fingers tracing his at her flesh.

Remy let out a small chuckle, "Chere, evert'in I do can be considered sexual harassment. Mais its not sexual harassment if it's mutual, non."

Rogue felt his breath once again hot on her neck; his fingers brushed away the small wisps of hair the clung there. "Y' never did answer mon question, Rogue. Exactly where have y' been dese past couple o' days. Not at work dat's fo' sure."

His fingers slid down her shoulder, softly grazing her bare arms. Hadn't this been the exact reason she had gotten the Cure. To have this kind of touch. It was more than worth it, wasn't it?

"Ah didn't answer ya question fo' a reason," Rogue snapped back, her head was leaned back against his shoulder in pure wanton. God she hated him for this. He was dangerous, his demon eyed gaze was dangerous.

Remy watched as her eyes closed, her lips pursed together as her head leaned against his shoulder. The exposed skin of her throat looked delectable and he couldn't help himself as he slid a finger across the flesh, one finger and then another as he stroked her hair out of the way as it came to rest at her shoulders.

"An' exactly what would dat reason be, chere?" he asked his voice at her ear, that breathy whisper that drove her to insanity, that made her knees pool and her blood run hot. She could feel his lips at her ear and every hair on her body seemed charged with electricity.

Rogue licked her lips as she leaned her head forward, her white strands hiding her eyes from his, shielding herself from his demon eyed entrancement.

"It's none of ya business Swamp Rat," Rogue whispered. She knew he heard her, could feel his grasp on her hips as he swiveled behind her seductively. Could feel his hands slink along before turning her to his gaze. Could feel the intensity of his star looming down on her.

This is what she wanted. She would never admit it. She needed his heat. Needed his fire. Needed his smoldering eyes to melt away her pain, if only for a few hours. If only to be lost in the carnal bliss that only he could give her. She looked up at him.

When those emeralds made contact with his blood stained eyes he lost all control. He was in his place of business, in a place in public; but that was part of the fun wasn't it. He saw the need, the lust in her heavy lidded eyes. She wasn't asking for a conversation, wasn't asking for questions, she was just asking for his body. He should have felt cheap, but all he felt was the same need.

"My office, now," his words were fueled by his primal instincts, his voice was authoritative but not in the way the boy's had been. Rogue got a thrill when he spoke. Not from fear but from anticipation. She wasn't scared of this demon eyed man even though she knew she should be. He was lost in his need just as she was in hers. She didn't have to be afraid of him.

Remy gripped Rogue's wrist as they wound down the staircase and through the various bodies attempting to exit the establishment. Everyone split a pathway for them to walk down; no one dared get in the way of Remy Etienne Lebeau. They knew that would surely mean trouble.

Rogue watched as the other employees stared at her with amused expressions and shook their heads. One woman, a waitress Rogue didn't get along with at all had an all too pleasant expression on her face, going out of her way to comment, "Hope y' get canned."

Rogue bit back an insult as they finally found the shadows of the club, winding their way into the recesses of the back offices. She watched as he pulled out a set of keys and expertly opened the door, pulling her through the small opening before slamming it shut and securing its lock.

Rogue found herself seated against the antique wooden table staring back at his burning eyes, the glare he was sending her from his perch against the door. His arms were crossed over his chest and Rogue couldn't help but moan at how his silk shirt displayed his every muscle and bend to perfection.

She licked her lips. Her arms were set behind her, holding her up as she leaned against the desk waiting, watching his eyes, watching as the inky sea of black that was the backdrop for those glowing embers of his irises became more and more prominent and the red began to disappear to the yearning pupils.

"What do ya want with meh Swamp Rat?" Rogue questioned. He was taking too long; this game was meant to be thoughtless, not full of insecurities. She was tired of Anna Marie's insecurities and pains, with him she could be Rogue, could call the shots; or at least feel like she could.

Remy's tell tale wolfish grin set across his face as his hearty chuckle filled with warmth spread throughout the room. Rogue had been staring at him, waiting to be overtaken by his warmth but when he finally approached her, finally made that distinct crossing she didn't feel warmth. No it was an inferno, and she could have sworn she felt nothing better.

His hands wrapped around her hips, his chest pressed against hers, his hips greeting hers happily, setting her lower back into the bite of the desk. His lips once again were at her ear, the flesh of her lobe in between the sinful creations, his tongue teasing it gently as his teeth grazed the skin. She felt her body shiver from the heat. This was too much. He spoke, his lips against her ear.

"Dere is so much I want wit y', chere. Mais for now, I'll take y' right here, right now, on dis desk," his voice was low and sultry and Rogue could have sworn that bass like rumble went straight between her legs.


	6. Haven't We Been Here Before

_**A/N: So I hope it hasn't been too long for ya'll. This update will contain two chapters mostly because I don't know the next time I'll be able to update so I hope this is enough. I'd like to thank everyone who reviewed, favorited, or put this fic on story alert it really means a lot to me that you guys are enjoying this because it's something that I've had in my head for a while and was kinda scared to write. **_

_**Secondly, please please review, I love reviews and I promise to PM every reviewer with their own personal thank you the next time I update. **_

_**Thirdly this is a smutty chapter so if you do not like do not read. **_

_**Fourthly I'm rambling so I'll just let you read. **_

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><p>Chapter 6- Haven't We Been Here Before<p>

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><p>"<em>Up here my eyes are green leaves, unseeing"<em>

_The Waves by Virginia Wolf_

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><p>A small moan escaped her lips and Remy took that as his cue to proceed. Rogue was unsure of what happened from then on, but she knew it felt good. She remembered her legs going up and wrapping around his waist, remembered piles of papers being crushed beneath her back as her clothes were lost in the process of exposing skin. She didn't care, she needed this, need this burning, needed his sun to blot out the darkness within her.<p>

She felt his fingers dance along her skin, eliciting a tingle or shiver every time. Remy's expert fingers had extracted her from her cotton confines within seconds and she recalled that it had been she that was naked for a long period of time before he exposed himself. She grinned coyly at this.

His hands worshipped her. First moving in small circular patterns across her back, slipping up and over to her collar bone where his lips and teeth nibbled and suckled gracefully. Her mind fogged over with lust. This was her release. They dipped lower, taking a seat in her favorite spot, his hand holding her lips altogether, each finger moving with precision to have her buck against him. She could have sworn he was doing it on purpose, teasing her to within an inch until she went insane with need.

Remy was lost in her skin. It was addicting, he couldn't get enough of the feel, the taste of such an encasement of creamy beauty. He brought her to the edge several times, never letting her over, loving to watch the playing of her expressions, the way her chest heaved, the pants and moans, the wriggles. He wasn't sure why, but bringing her pleasure was enough to set him off.

He had finally had enough, he needed to taste, needed to lap at the perfection of her body, he didn't know why but the pit of his stomach was begging him to take her in his mouth and set her body on fire. Within seconds he was on his knees in front of the desk, her hips angled perfectly in front of him as he held her thighs open. She watched with wide eyes, taking in the lopsided smirk he gave her before pressing his lips to her firm little bud and gazing as her eyes rolled into the back of her head and her fingers scraped across the worn wood of the desk.

Rogue's body was on fire as his tongue moved in circles against her, keeping her wrapped up in his power over her. Remy kept up his work, the tip of his tongue swirling against her bud as his fingers began to enter her, pumping slowly at first before gaining speed as her walls began to clench around him. He waited for a moment before pressing his lips to the bundle and letting a small charge of energy pop against her soft wet flesh and enjoyed the sight of her body shaking with pure pleasure as she crossed over into rapture.

Rogue could barely breathe. How had he done that? Her body seemed like it had become pure energy, like it had turned into an inferno itself. She couldn't stop the convulsions, the beautiful quivering and she felt his lips against her again, this time at her hips, his hands gently holding her as she rode the wave, bringing her down from the heights gently. Her eyelids stopped fluttering as the feeling diminished and when she opened her eyes she found his staring back at her with no loss of the blaze.

Rogue's legs dangled off of the desk for a moment before she sat up, her head spinning with bliss and turned to Remy. She stared at him for a moment, trying to decipher those demon eyes. She decided against it. She snaked her hand around his neck and pulled him in for a deep kiss, her tongue entering his mouth and stirring his into a more passionate kiss.

Her pulled her against his body and felt as her hands slid down his chest now bare and feeling and memorizing every plane and rivet, every marking and grain, raking her nails down until the beginnings of his slacks. Rogue quickly rid him of his pants happy to find that he had no underwear on. She smiled seductively at him; her emeralds glowing brightly even in the light of the room. He shivered against her as she pulled him closer, taking him in her hand and stoking him.

Remy's head fell back in pleasure as Rogue's perfect hands pulled at a bewitchingly slow pace, her eyes narrowed in an almost sadistically pleased way as she teased him. His hands reached out for her breasts, kneading the pert pink pebbles and watching as her plump red lips fell open with a beautiful moan.

Rogue let go of him suddenly, her hands moving to his hips as she sat once more on his desk. His hips followed her trail as her legs opened for him and her eyes dared him to enter. He could deny her no longer and with one swift motion had entered her.

Rogue hated herself for the pleasure she was taking at his pace, at the pull and push, the heat of his member as it entered her and the hot liquids that it produced from her. She gave over to her pleasure, made sure to just take the feeling of his every inch as it moved within her. He drove her to insanity.

Remy's strokes were erratic and untimed but she was so damn tight and so hot and he could have sworn that he had never felt anything better than the inside of Rogue. Watching as she writhed beneath him, her hair splayed out behind her as her perfect lips opened and closed in the bliss that he was bringing her. He had to step it up, had to show her something more.

He pulled all the way out for a moment eliciting an angry whimper from Rogue.

"No, no, no," she whined breathily. He smirked down at her, his crimson irises lighting up with joy.

In two seconds he was within her again, this time her legs above his shoulders, her feet entwined around his neck as he pushed within her farther than ever before, his hips grinding into her lips in an achingly gorgeous way. How did he know to do these things? How did he know how to play her body so well that she was constantly on the edge with just one single motion?

After a few thrusts, Rogue was done for, her walls clenched around the heat of his shaft and she fell back against the desk her hips bucking in rapture taking Remy over the edge with her. Remy was careful not to collapse on top of her, shifting his weight as best he could on to the desk before joining Rogue and lying beside her. Rogue panted happily beside Remy her fingers wound around a lock of his hair, her other hand resting on his chest.

Remy's eyes were closed, and Rogue wondered idly if that was the only fire, the only fuel for this conquest of hers. He lay still, his eyes closed, his chest heaving with breath. She gazed at the angular sculpt of his jaw, of the light stubble that seemed to plague his young face, at the fully formed lips, at the defined nose and brow, and the wisps of auburn that fell seductively onto his eyelids, lined by thick lashes.

No this man was gorgeous. Surely the fire could be seen anywhere, but his eyes, they were the pathway, the nearest gate to his inferno, to the firestorm he was capable of creating within her. She felt her hands move before she could stop herself, the fingers grazing along his jaw, along his lips, over his brow and finally whispering across his eyelids. Her hand paused at his jaw once again and she saw a flash before his eyes snapped open. The flames blazing ever brighter, the rubies capturing the emerald in a never-ending gaze into the depths of his inferno.

_**A Few Hours Later**_

Remy finished buttoning up his shirt as Rogue slid into her shorts. The way she swayed her hips made him lick his lips. This woman was too much, every motion had him on edge and it was driving him insane. How did she do it? Who was she to him, just another lay right? So why was she always on his mind? Why did he find himself wanting to know more about her and not just find out the various ways she could moan when he touched her?

Rogue could feel his eyes on her skin, boring red hot holes in the creamy encasement. She turned her head over her shoulder to get a look at him, understand exactly what it was he found so mesmerizing about her. She knew she was beautiful by some standards but the way he looked at her, like he wanted to consume her, take her for everything that she was, to devour her like the predator he was. It was terrifying.

Wasn't this just sex? Wasn't that what it was supposed to be? So why was it that when he looked at her she felt more than lust grow in the pit of her stomach? Rogue was frightened; she was getting too attached to the beautiful devil eyed man who stood before her. Once was one thing but twice was becoming a habit. She knew she had to distance herself from him it just was a matter of how.

Her emerald green orbs caught his blood stained rubies and for a moment all was silent, her body turned away from him as she looked back at the casual way he sat against his desk, his arms folded across his chest, that damn smile playing at the corners of his lips, the first few buttons of his shirt left carelessly open to expose his chiseled browned chest. He knew just what to do to drive her wild and she hated it.

Rogue turned back around shaking her head in her own frustration. She needed to get him out of her head, off of her skin, out from within the recesses of her heart. This was dangerous and his demon eyes should have been the warning that his flames might come too close, that she might get more than burned; she might get hooked on the feel.

She went back to getting ready. Her hands went to her neck as she scooped her hair into her hands to swirl it up into a messy bun when she felt her wrists become shackled by warm, rough hands.

"Allow me chere," Remy stated to her ear, Rogue's thighs trembled.

Didn't he have enough? Hadn't they gone ten rounds and then some? Why was he so close all the time? Why did his skin have to be on hers so constantly? He was getting under her skin in the worst way possible and it scared her to her core. The voice in her head screamed that she needed to do something, needed to say something but no words escaped her lips instead all she could do was stand silently as he touched her.

His fingers grazed her soft alabaster skin seeming to move each strand of hair one at a time into his grasp. He pulled her hair back playfully, stroking the sides of her head before roughly pulling back for a moment to take her lips in a kiss. Rogue's breath was caught between his fully formed lips and she pulled back for air.

She was caught in his net, in this finely weaved game that left her confused and powerless. She couldn't have that couldn't let herself be weak, not with him; she couldn't afford to be weak again. But he felt so good, felt so amazing when he touched her.

Remy smirked at her, his face lighting up at the sudden overwhelmed expression on her face. His hands wound her hair up expertly before pulling the hair tie from around her wrist and securing her hair in its up do. Once done Rogue spun around to face him, the lush forests of green set in her irises full of bewilderment. Remy quirked his eyebrows.

"What don't like gettin' help mon chere," Remy quipped his hands once again at their place on her hips. She found herself shifting her weight to one foot and placing her hands atop his before firmly pushing them away.

"Not from Swamp Rats like yaself," Rogue bit back her eyes somewhat playful despite the scowl set on her lips.

She made her move, she hoped he would understand. She knew deep down he probably wouldn't. But then again if his demon eyes were any indication he couldn't be trusted and this was more than just a precaution it was a preemptive strike. She couldn't take it if the heat suddenly disappeared without her consent. At least this way she stole herself from it. She felt regret seep into her pores the second the words left her lips.

Remy's fingers went below her chin, pushing her face upward and closer to his. Why was she being so rude? He couldn't say it wasn't a turn on, her forcefulness had been a definite plus especially when it came to the private matters they seemed to only want to take care of but this was different. He felt her pulling away and it scared him and that fear, the fear of losing her frightened him more than anything ever. Who was she to him?

"Lips as belle as yours should not be made ta frown," Remy replied his thumb grazing over the perfect red flesh watching as her eyes were set upon his own.

Rogue rolled her eyes and stepped away from him, moving past him to gather up her things in her apron. Remy was behind her as he had been before his hands making patterns up and down her sides, his fingers playing along her ribs and sending quivers along her body.

"Goddamnit Cajun can't ya take a hint," Rogue bursted turning to face Remy once more.

She tried not to stare into his eyes. Surely if she looked into those fiery scarlet depths she would lose control once again, she needed to freeze over, needed to be cold. The flesh was vulnerable once heated, she needed it to cool and he couldn't do that, especially not with a gaze like his.

"And what hint might dat be petit, aside from de one dat tells moi y' can't get enough of dis here Cajun," Remy threw back frustratedly.

What was it that made her so short tempered afterword? Was it guilt? Did she not want to get too close for fear of something more? Fear of something that might ruin the already horrible relationship he knew she must have? Part of him wished he could protect her, but there's only so far you can push with someone you barely know. He may have known the in's and out's of her body but her mind was a locked box he could never get past.

Once again that fear washed over him, not just of losing her, but of the attachment that was growing just as the lust had been between the sheets.

"The hint that Ah'm leaving, Ah need ta leave? Is that so hard fo ya to comprehend," Rogue yelled at him walking towards the door throwing her arms up in a gesture that he was obviously thick.

"Non, Je comprends (No, I get it). Y' have ta leave, jus' like last time. So get de fuck outta mon office," Remy fumed at her as he opened the door, his eyes blazing with anger.

Rogue stormed out of the office turning halfway down the hall.

"Well ya can go fuck yaself ya bastard Swamp Rat!" Rogue couldn't believe the words as they left her mouth but she could believe his reaction. Could see his eyes as they shrunk and then flamed with a fiery glow that was more intense than any she'd ever seen. His eyes narrowed.

"I don't need ta fuck monself 'cause y' did dat fo me y' –" Remy couldn't continue had to stop himself. He knew he didn't mean these words and couldn't ever bring himself to say the things he was thinking in his head and even the thoughts seemed too harsh.

"Get de fuck outta here Rogue!" he finished watching as her backside rounded the corner her middle finger parting several seconds afterward.

"With pleasure," she yelled back.

This had to be done. They both had to break it before it could really be broken. This couldn't grow, they both knew that. So why did it hurt so much?

If this was just meaningless sex why did she flinch at his words and why did his eyes flame evermore with anger when she threw insults his way? They meant nothing to each other.

So why did this feeling in their stomachs say that this was something so much more?

Why did it feel like their chests were caving in from the impact?


	7. Meeting Up and Shipping Out

_**A/N: Okay so this is gonna be a particularly long chapter but all of it is good I hope. This is a lot of set up for coming chapters and backstory so I hope it doesn't bore you guys too much and that it will tie you over until the next time I update. Hope you enjoy and as always R&R pretty please and not in the Rogue and Remy sense even though I wouldn't blame you for doing that either. ;)**_

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><p>Chapter 7- Meeting Up and Shipping Out (I Am Not Mother Theresa)<p>

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><p>"<em>Love me when I least deserve it,<em>

_because that's when I really need it"_

_Swedish Proverb_

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><p>It had been a little less than a week since they had even seen each other. Little less than a week and the two felt like their lives were falling apart at the seams.<p>

Rogue could barely go to work without the fear or rather thrill that she might see Remy there, that there might be reconciliation. Surely he had to know that she didn't mean the things she said. He knew that she was damaged goods, had seen it with his own eyes hadn't he. So why was it that she was hoping that he would come back to her, would apologize for cracking her guard?

Remy's life was in shambles before she had come along, but now it seemed he had little purpose in life other than to find her on those nights, to quell the thoughts so latent in his mind. He was no closer to knowing her story despite the fact that the Guild had a dossier on her and that he had Logan for more contact information. She was the only thing that kept him sane and yet that drove him beyond the realms of insanity. She was the only thing on his mind, until Henri called less than a week after they had broken what had yet to form.

"Frérot are y' still in bed?" Henri sang on the other line, the sounds of his son running around playfully, Mercy chasing after him and scolding him echoing in the background of the call.

Remy pulled his body up from off of the bed marginally, only enough to comfortably take the call. His room was still pitch black. Wasn't it late, why was Henri calling him now?

"Co'se I'm in mon bed, I'm sleepin'," Remy responded back grumpily turning over, his bed partner tossing beneath the covers in an obnoxious manner.

Remy rolled his eyes and made an attempt to sit up in the bed. There was no use trying to sleep through the call. Henri obviously meant to tell him something or else he wouldn't have called at a time he knew was designated for slumber.

"It is two in de afternoon, frérot, y' think y' gon get up befo' de moon rises," Henri joked chuckling to himself.

Remy shook his head. Of course it was two in the afternoon and he was sleeping, he was a club owner, a thief, and an all around night owl which meant the morning was to be wasted sleeping.

"Y' have a reason ta call me frère or are y' just tryin' ta annoy moi," Remy said curtly.

"Well someone be a li'l grumpy dis mornin'. What didn't have y' fix o' bourbon and a pair of legs las' night?" Henri retorted sassily.

"Y' betta tell moi what dis be about Henri or else I'm hangin' up," Remy threatened as he rubbed his face attempting keep in some state of consciousness. His bed partner rustled closer to him.

"How be tu amour?" Henri asked in a somewhat delighted tone.

Remy smirked to himself as he stared at his bed mate, he ran a hand across her stomach and a smile crept across her face.

"She be well. When y' gonna steal her from moi?" Remy asked.

"Pro'ly sometime soon. Jaques misses her y' know. We'll be back in town soon to pick her up," Henri noted and Remy couldn't help but frown at the thought of losing his love.

"Too bad, she be de only femme I can stand sleepin' wit in de actual sense of de words," Remy commented looking down on the female with a remorseful smile.

"She's in y' bed right now ain't she," Henri chuckled.

"Co'se givin' me fleas all de while," Remy shook his head as he rubbed her belly some more.

"Can't believe y' gave Roxy fleas. Jacques is gon be so upset. Can't y' even dog sit right, frérot," Henri poked fun at his younger brother.

"Ha ha, Henri. Is dere anyt'in else y' like ta joke about, how 'bout how I'm no longer in de guild or how-"

"Bout dat, I spoke ta pere dis morning. De counsel said dat dey would like ta have y' at de official meetin' dis comin' week. I t'ink dey're gonna reinstate y'," Henri mention nonchalantly as if the words he were stating had no effect on him or his brother whatsoever.

"Y' wait til now ta tell me. Seriously frère, y' timing is horrible. Couldn't y' have said dat first?" Remy scolded letting out a deep sigh as he patted Roxy on the head, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she slept.

"Non, not as fun."

"Y' gettin' as bad as moi, Henri," Remy chided and both men shared hearty laughter.

"Oui Mercy t'inks so too," Henri smiled as he pulled his wife down onto his lap and gave her an uncharacteristic kiss. She grinned widely as she pulled away yelling into the receiver of the phone.

"Y' betta keep givin' 'im ideas like dat."

Remy laughed heartily into the phone, his fingers getting caught in Roxy's long black fur. Mercy and Henri were the kind of couple he wished he could be a part of one day. Sure he knew that his wife would have to be a tad feistier and he was definitely more seductive and sultry than his older shy brother could ever be but he wanted a love like theirs, eventually.

His thoughts immediately melded into Rogue guilt began to creep its way up into a lump at the base of his throat, bile like lump. He wished he hadn't said those things to her. She was already probably going through so much and he had done nothing but make it worse by being selfish, by thinking of his own carnal needs.

Never before had Remy Lebeau, Gambit, le Diable Blanc put a woman's emotions before his own but there was something more to what they were doing, to what he wanted from her. She wasn't just another lay. She was a conquest, but it wasn't his body that he was after. He had broken many a heart before to satiate his lust but he didn't want to break hers. There was something more and it was eating away at him like acid.

"Y' dere homme?" Henri blurted on the other line bringing Remy out of his thoughs.

"Mmm, oui. So when de meetin' be and where?" Remy asked pulling at the fur crowning Roxy's head her eyes shut and her breathing slowing as she fell back asleep.

"Do y' even 'ave ta ask?" Henri chided.

"Non, guess I'll see y' an' pere on Tuesday at four den."

_**The Xavier Institute**_

Logan had gone two weeks without calling Gambit. It went against his intuition, went against his moral code, and overall went against his instincts. But when Jubilee set Logan to do something he dare not listen to her, something about the petit Chinese girl and her bubbly personality grated on him in a way that he would never be able to truly tell her.

Sure it was infuriating but it's also what he loved about her, her convictions were so set in stone, like his and when she told him to let things with Rogue lie for a while until Gambit had given him a reason to mettle he listened. But it had been two weeks and nothing had transpired between Logan and Gambit except the occasional odd conversation and Logan never gave him the information he was looking for.

"Firecracker it jus' don't seem right darlin'," Logan tried to convince her in his most soothing tone. It wasn't working.

"How long have you known Gambit, Logan! If ya couldn't trust him then why would you like introduce him to us and stuff. I'm sure Rogue is fine, she just needs time away from all this crapola, its like too much for all of us. She just got fed up a lot faster than most of us," Jubilee warned him blowing out a bubble with her gum and popping it before pursing her lips and narrowing her eyes at the Wolverine.

"I never said I trusted Gumbo, I said we had a past and when it comes to me people from my past, they aren't exactly the most trustworthy, darlin'. That bub has somethin' up his sleeve, he's a tricky one," Logan conceded as leaned against the doorframe.

"He's a thief Holmes, what do you expect him to be freaking Mother Theresa?" Jubilee shook her head as she put her hands on her hips in a very Rogue like way that made Logan chuckle.

"That's what worries me Firecracker. He's not Mother Theresa and neither am I," Logan said as he pulled Jubilee towards his chest looking down at her big brown eyes and smiling before taking her round lips in his. She was impossible, just like him.

_**Later That Week**_

Counsel meetings were amongst the most hated things that Remy had to do when he was a part of the Thieves' Guild. Now that he was no longer a master thief in their eyes he wondered if he should even bring himself to show up to one of their long drawn out meetings. They were so droll and dreary that Remy found himself falling asleep at many, which in most cases ended up with him receiving some sort of corporal punishment from Jean-Luc, it wasn't exactly the best situation.

So on Tuesday afternoon when he strolled up to the Guild Headquarters located in the Lebeau Mansion he really wished he would only have to stay as long as it took to get reinstated. He almost didn't want to go. After all what was the point of becoming a thief again? Surely he could get as much work as the guild could provide him as a free agent.

He would never tell anyone that as it was against Guild code to siphon contacts but he was the man who got the job done, not the guild so if his clients were more loyal to him than the guild who was really to blame.

Remy thought once again and let out a sigh. This move was purely political as were all the others when it came to the guild. He was the Prince of Thieves, the heir to the throne despite Henri's obvious birth right. Henri just lacked the skills to become a master thief and no guild master ever, had not been a master thief, ever.

There were two requirements for the spot, direct blood lineage and master thief skills, Remy met the two, Henri only met one. Henri was never disappointed about losing the patriarchy to Remy. In fact the shy and calm brother was always happy to not have to deal with the pressure of becoming the head of the guild. The burden then rested on Remy's shoulders a seed that would grow into his rebellious nature.

Remy looked at the outside of his childhood home and took in a deep breath. This was sure to be a disaster one way or another but he had to attend. He was the Prince of Thieves. It was his duty. Why did the title not befit the duty? If movies and television had told him anything it was that thieves were reckless and mindless. Were they ever wrong.

He made his way through the halls he knew so well empty because of today's events. He wished he could run into Tante Mattie but he knew that if there was a counsel meeting she would be nowhere in sight. She hated the politics of the guild almost as much as he did.

Remy fixed his trench about him and smoothed his black silk shirt before pressing his knuckles into the dark fine wood of the heavy door set before him. Three, two, three, four. He counted out his breathes. Counted out the seconds and the knocks. Counted the sets of feet her heard stand. His ears were ringing.

The door slid open quietly and twenty six pairs of eyes met his but he never expected to see one pair standing beside the table head. Green emeralds widening at the sight of him. If he hadn't been so good at hiding his emotions Remy could have sworn his face had grown ashen.

"Remy, mon fil, please join us," Jean- Luc's voice rumbled from the head of the large table his purple upholstered chair seeming almost throne like as he stood in front of it.

The servant at the door gestured for Remy to enter and he followed the trail of eyes to his seat beside his father, as Prince of Thieves, his green eyed siren across from him staring at him with awe. He did not look at her, could not look at her, for fear that his life would unravel. She was spilled blood, impossible to wash off tainted hands.

"Now dat we are all here we can commence de meetin'. What be de firs' order of business, Henri?" Jean-Luc presided as his booming voice made all fall silent.

"Well de first t'ing on our docket would be de decision to reinstate master thief Remy Etienne Lebeau aliases Gambit, le Diable Blanc, Prince of Thieves. De counsel will first state any cases against or for de thief and then a decision will be called to be made," Henri mentioned nervously, fiddling with the collar of his shirt as he spoke, sweat beading his brow.

Jean-Luc nodded never looking at his son as he gestured to the counsel, "Any statements?"

His words were a quiet threat. The counsel never crossed Jean-Luc despite having the technical power to reverse his decision. He was a fair leader and smart like a thief should be and that often scared the counsel into submission. Not that many of them needed to be frightened, the majority of the counsel being made of extended family.

The room fell silent once more except for the obnoxious sniggering of Emile beside Remy. Remy firmly stamped on his foot and the sniggering stopped as Emile yelled out in pain bringing his foot into his hands.

"An objection Emile?" Jean-Luc questioned him quite surprised at his outburst. The silent threat was once again heavy in his words.

"Non, guild master. Just …uh…stubbed my toe," Emile cowered as he lowered his foot back to the ground and stared at the table as if the table cloth held some sort of magic.

Jean-Luc quirked his eyebrow before shaking off his nephews ridiculous outcry and addressing the counsel once more, "So if dere are no cases we shall vote. All in favor of le Diable Blanc's reinstatement say aye."

There was a short pause before each and every counsel member stated aye. Remy's eyes never lost their cold glare. He didn't want to be here, didn't want to be reinstated. All he wanted was to know why his chestnut haired goddess with green eyes, his emerald eyed siren was sitting across from him. What could have led her to the counsel meeting and why?

"Den it is decided. Remy Etienne Lebeau y' are reinstated as master thief of de Thieves Guild of Nawlins. Have y' anyt'in' ta say ta de guild?" Jean-Luc smiled amused, intertwining his fingers and setting them in front of him.

"Non," Remy gritted his teeth and the silence was replaced by murmurs.

Jean-Luc's face fell and the whispers continued. Rogue's eyes bored into Remy's and for a moment their gazes met. He could see the apologetic tinge imminent in her irises and she could feel the burning desire and resentment pooling forth from him weaken. Jean-Luc gave one look and all was quiet once more.

"Well now dat, dat is settled. What is de next item up fo' business?"

"Dat would be de discussion of de retrieval of de mutant cure for de Rousseau's of de Thieves Guild of Montreal," Henri let out calmly. His heart had stopped thundering in his chest and he gave Remy a reassuring grin as he spoke. Remy tried his best to return the expression.

"I believe we 'ave a contact dat has a bit o' info'mation on dis particular job," Jean-Luc proceeded. "Mademoiselle Darkholme, if y' would please."

Rogue scooted her chair up slightly and took a deep breath. Remy eyed the clothing he knew she had so carefully chosen. A simple white button up that plunged perfectly into her ample chest, a high waisted skirt that Remy assumed to be pencil. Her hair was tied back in a chignon bun, her wisps of white not framing her face but accentuating the sides of her head, wrapped about the bun.

"The pharmaceutical drug known commonly as the mutant cure is currently being held by the government agency S.H.I.E.L.D.," Rogue tried her best not to look at Remy as she spoke but she could feel her eyes dart to his every so often as they spoke tacitly amongst each other.

"After the Alcatraz incident the government felt that the drug would incite a mutant outcry that would lead to a war amongst the people. The remaining crates of the cure were confiscated from Worthington Labs and brought to S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. However, due to recent findings of remission from the drug and in some cases regeneration of powers altogether, Worthington Labs has been taking in special candidates for a new trial of the drug unbeknownst to the government," Rogue took a deep breath and looked to Jean-Luc to continue.

"Our main priority in dis job would be to infiltrate Worthin'ton Labs and confiscate whateva dey have left o' de mutant cure fo' sale and fo' use of our own operatives at de Montreal branch and beyond," Jean-Luc's tone was once again serious and his dark brown eyes caught his son's.

"Remy y' will be in charge o' de case," Jean-Luc stated, his son's eyes brightening as he sat up with interest.

"Y' alongside mademoiselle Darkholme will pose as two mutants fo' de trial. Since mademoiselle Darkholme has taken de cure already she knows de in's and out's of de process and will be assisting y' in any way she can. If dere are no questions shall we vote on de preliminaries of dis job," Jean-Luc's words hung in the air as the echoed of the counsel's vote rung in his ears.

Remy stared at Rogue the two unsure of how to proceed. Rogue bit her lip, her green eyes pooling with tears. Remy pursed his lips, his eyes growing full of flames, burning with sincerity as he gazed at her, his brow shrinking against the weight as he brooded.

There was moment of mutual acknowledgement before Rogue bit back her pride and the voice in her head telling her she had nothing to say before her perfect plump red lips mouthed the words 'Ah'm sorry.' Remy's eyes brightened full of scarlet waves as he responded with a silent. 'Moi too.'

"I suggest y' pack y' bags mademoiselle Darkholme. Y' and le Diable Blanc here are shippin' out tomorrow mornin'," Jean-Luc chuckled heartily as he shook her hand and patted his son on the back before leaving the room with the rest of the counsel members all lighting cigars and sending reverberations of hearty laughter as they left the room.

Remy and Rogue were left alone to their own devices, the counsel assuming that Remy would brief Rogue on the in's and out's of the mission and guild code. They should have known better than to leave Remy alone in a room with a gorgeous woman. The two should have known better than to entangle themselves once more in this web, because as it continued to be spun, lust become less and less a part of the picture. Rogue licked her lips and Remy leaned back in his seat, her foot finding his leg and caressing it softly. They were playing a dangerous game, had already been hurt, but both felt as if there was nothing left to lose. They both knew better.


	8. A Moment of Vulnerability

_**A/N: So here is another update. Even one week seems like too long for me and I honestly wish I could give you guys an update a day but things are just so hectic at the moment that I can't. But alas at least we have this update with doubly ROMY amazingness, but don't get too excited Rogue still has a stick up her bum for the most part and will for a while so sorry. Anyways as usual I will try to get back to those reviewers I have yet to PM before the next time I update. As always please Read and REVIEW! Because it makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside like when I think of Remy, so yeah, and it also makes me update faster in case you didn't know. **_

_**Okay I know I am once again rambling but I just want to make sure to thank everyone who is keeping tabs on this little story and I hope you enjoy the next installment. I will personally try to update before next Sunday but there are no guarentees. **_

_**Finally I am finis with the talking: READ! :D Oh and if you have any questions about exactly when or where this is going feel free to put it into a review or to PM me. Alright I am really done this time. Go on, read before your computer dies from battery failure.**_

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><p>Chapter 8- A Moment of Vulnerability<p>

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><p><em>What makes you think you are invincible?<em>

_I can see it in your eyes that you're so sure_

_Please don't tell me that I am the only one that's _

_Vulnerable_

"_Vulnerable"- Secondhand Serenade_

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><p>They had been sitting there staring at each other for a long moment. The words had yet to escape their mouths and even if they could they knew they would do no good. These two were hell bent on crushing the other with words, of hurting the other and themselves with simple speech.<p>

No, their body language was the only thing that could be trusted; their eyes that spoke of the depths of something so frightening they both wished they could look away but lacked the courage to do so.

Rogue gnawed at her lip nervously as she looked back into his scarlet flames on onyx eyes wishing she could apologize the way she knew he deserved to be apologized to. But there was something so intimate about such an act.

It was a way of admitting she had done something wrong and that inherently this was more than the physical entanglement that they both had deluded themselves into thinking it was. There was something about asking for his forgiveness that gave him too much power over her. But she had done it anyways.

Rogue shivered at the thought, her foot slowly moving down Remy's calf sending shivers up his skin. Her eyes held a great amount of uncertainty, she was hard to read, something that Remy was unused to. There again was that attraction; the need to break down her carefully crafted façade, the one thing that he knew they shared. But if Remy knew anything it was that sending the stones of her wall crumbling downward was going to be more than difficult, if she was anything like him, it might never happen.

His expression was stoic, his lips taking in small, deep breaths every few seconds as he desperately tried to think of a way to resolve their situation. They would have to be professional for the next couple of weeks, and that may prove to be difficult with the love(physical)- hate(everything else) relationship they had going at the moment. He didn't want to push her away; she did that so much herself. No he wanted to cling to her and that notion disgusted him to his core.

Who was she to him? Just another lay. Just another waitress from a diner, just another girl from his bar. So why did she matter so much to him? Why did he fixate on her so much? He had never felt this way before. Never had he regretted a one night stand; at least not for the reason that he felt himself getting more attached to this pair-of-legs-for-the-night. If anything it was the reverse. Remy gritted his teeth; he was becoming a woman and she was making him one.

He closed his eyes for a moment leaning forward and placing his head in his hands, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

"What exactly are we gonna do here chere?" his tone was irritable but Rogue could hear the pain subtly etched beneath it. It scared her.

She didn't know what to say, didn't know how to respond. This table was like a sea parting them and she didn't know how to cross it, cross the space that had suddenly made its way between them. Surely this had been simple before, when it was just sex. But had it ever really been just that?

Remy's eyes bore into hers reflexively and she seemed to stumble through her thoughts of getting out what she knew she needed to say. It was already too much. She was desperately hanging onto the hope that she would not get attached to this demon eyed man. But his heat was too much to handle, too hard to resist, the burning that felt so…

Her lips moved to say something but the words would not fall out from them and Rogue instinctively recoiled, pulling her arms against her chest, cradling herself. Remy felt as her foot slid down his calf for the last time and gritted his teeth. Rogue's eyes cast down onto the table.

He wasn't supposed to deal with this kind of thing. He knew about it, knew all about what he was supposed to do, would do it for her but he knew he shouldn't. Didn't they know better than to put themselves in these positions? Or was it the thrill of being next to someone so like them too much to bear? Too much not to touch and feel and hope and…that four letter word that haunted their every action.

Remy once again made the move towards her. He was unsure if she was crying, unsure if she was truly hurting but he was sure that he needed to do something, needed to clarify this damn thing if it was the last thing he did. He sat up in his chair took a very deep breath and then stood up and walked over to her. The movement was deliberate and slow, much like that of a predator seeking out its prey but he knew that wasn't the fact of the matter. If anything he was the prey and she was the lure, a predator in disguise.

She felt his body heat up behind her, why was that? Why was he always at her back almost shielding her? His hand snaked down her shoulders massaging them gently for a moment before one hand tilted her head slightly as he placed a delicate hot kiss on her throat there. She closed her eyes and felt release. Why was this so easy and yet so difficult?

"Ah don't know what ta do. Things have jus' gotten too jumbled up. Ah feel like Ah don't have any control anymore," Rogue's voice was meek and low and for the first time Remy saw her vulnerability.

Remy was quiet for a long minute as he weighed what he should say to her, it was difficult to comprehend how to proceed. They hardly knew each other and yet knew things, intimate things about the other, tacit things that meant more than any words.

Remy's voice was quiet silk against her ear, "Well fo' right now we don't have ta t'ink. Fo' now let's jus..."

His hands were making perfect circles in her skin. His lips caressing the soft skin of her neck and under her jaw. She knew this was his way of diffusing the tension, it was hers too. They only knew this part, could only know this part of each other.

She had said too much today, it had been a first for her. He was usually the one who was more than willing, and it was usually her shutting him down. He knew that this was the only way, there was no comforting her with words, it would just make things worse. They needed sweat release and that he could give her. But he wanted to give her more and that was dangerous. Rogue needed that danger, but she also needed to account for that vulnerability.

"Look Ah don't need ya sympathy Swamp Rat, okay. Let's just get this thing over with as fast as we can and move on with our lives, comprenz?" Rogue mocked him, her words acid as she flipped her head back staring down at him.

Remy let out a growl his lips curling up in a snarl as he dropped his hands from her shoulders. She was so infuriating. It only took an instance for that wall to snap back up. Why in the hell was she like this? So they were just supposed to act professional after all that had already transpired between them. Like that would ever happen, like he would ever let that happen.

"Fille y' got ta get somet'ing in ta dat head of yos. I'm not here fo' y' dis be mon place, mon home and y' be a guest. It ain't exactly grateful of y' to be snappin' at de people payin' y' and puttin' food in y' mouth as well as filling dat gap between y' legs so if I were y' I'd just say thank y', comprenz?" Remy bit back at her. It was the worst he could muster up and even as he said the words, and even with the anger that was dripping from his lips he regretted it.

She was just so good a shoving him back and while all he wanted was to push her back into place he just wound up moving farther and farther from her. She just wouldn't let him help her in whatever way he could.

Rogue's eyes flamed with fury as she sent the chair she was sitting in flying behind her and stood to her full height, her teeth clenched and her eyes narrowed at Remy. Who was he to think he could talk to her like that? He was just a one night stand that kept clinging to her. A way for her to get some pleasure in her life and nothing more. So why did it hurt so much when those words hit her ears, like a gunshot ringing out in a quiet room.

"Who do ya think ya are talkin' ta me like that?" Rogue spat back at him as she pulled her hand back to slap him.

Remy caught her hand mid strike pulling it back and twisting it behind her back, pulling her against his chest feeling as the breath filled her chest and heaved and she tried to use all the strength she could to resist his entrapment. If he was so furious with her he would have grinned but at the moment the only thing that was going through his mind was exactly how much he wanted her at that moment if only to make her pay for thinking she could push him past his breaking point.

"Non, who do y' t'ink y' are chere? Who do y' t'ink y' are Rogue?" He sputtered angrily into her ear.

Rogue's breath was fast and short. His grip on her wrist was vice-like and it seemed like every time she wriggled he merely was able to hold her more steadfastly. Rogue slyly shifted her footing, placing a foot between Remy's legs.

"Ah'm someone who jus' wants to get on with her life, but a stupid, stubborn, asshole of a Cajun keeps getting' in the way!" Rogue struggled once more, her eyes turning to face Remy's.

The emerald irises seemed to seethe at him, her pupils large and willful as she bared her teeth at him in frustration. She stared back into his pools of fire, liquid fire that sparked and ignited with her every movement. She could see the rage flicker and die in the sea of his sclera and while to some degree it frightened her, for the most part it thrilled her. She felt the shame well up deep within her at the thought.

Rogue struggled one more time before throwing all of her weight behind her foot in an attempt to knock Remy off balance. She swung her leg around only to miss entirely as Remy swiftly maneuvered his footing out of the way of her sweep as Rogue found herself dangling from his grip on her wrists. She cursed in irritation as she stared back up at the Cajun who just had that damned smirk on his face like always.

Remy dropped his hold on her wrist watching as she pooled to a heap on her knees. She stared up at him her eyes narrow slits of anger, her breath shaky and her teeth bared in wolf like fashion. She quickly picked herself up from the floor and pressed her hands onto Remy's chest shoving him backwards towards the wall.

Remy had miscalculated her strength because he found himself hitting the wall with great force. But luckily for him he had grabbed her wrists once more the second after she had shoved him into the wall and Rogue came tumbling after him landing straight onto his chest. Remy's arms encased her and Rogue found herself over come with the need she wished she could push deep within the pit of her stomach.

Her hands travelled up to his hair yanking it harshly as she tipped toed up to his lips taking them in hers fiercely, gnawing them angrily. Remy gave into her ministrations. He wasn't one not to give a woman what she wanted, especially if he was to benefit from it as well. His hands pulled down her sides, nails grazing the fabric to the skin underneath and he heard her growl into his mouth and couldn't stop the smile from making its way to his lips.

Rogue's fingers clawed down Remy's chest as she ripped the shirt from his torso with uncharacteristic strength for her post- Cure self. She choked it up to her being so mad at him. Remy tried to stop being so giddy about this but angry Rogue was sexy Rogue and so his devilish smile stayed on his lips as she pulled the clothes from his skin. He would have said he was upset about losing his black silk shirt but in all honesty he had others and she was doing so good.

Rogue nipped and bit her way down his chest her fingers following her lips path. Her hands made their way down to the fly of Remy's slacks and secretly she hoped he had gone without the underwear once more today because it would make this so much easier. She knew he was tensed and ready and all she wanted to do was devour him, to see the vulnerability cross his face as she knew he was under her spell and she held all the control.

She settled on her knees before him as she pulled him free of his slacks. Remy felt the chill of the air from the room hit his skin and he gritted his teeth as it was removed by Rogue's delicate creamy hands. She stared up at him with devious eyes, her pupils filled and darkened with lust, the green growing ever brighter. She watched as that look crossed his face. The one men couldn't control as a woman had them in the palm of their hand, literally.

It gave her satisfaction to know she was probably the only woman to get him to give that look. He most likely would never let his guard down long enough to give someone else that look and it sent shivers up her spine just to know what she did to him. It made her almost wish there was more to this game, but she had already settled that qualm long ago. This was nothing more than the physical and in a few minutes (more like hours if they both had their way) it would be nothing more than the professional.

Rogue finally placed her lips around the tip of Remy's shaft and he let out a hiss at the connection and Rogue couldn't help but smile seductively around him as she moved farther down, pulling up slowly, grazing her teeth against his soft skin, her hands toying with the skin of his thighs. She could feel him shudder into her and his hips give an involuntary jerk forward. Remy's hand entwined into Rogue's hair and she felt him begin to become frantic with the need for release and she felt the power surge through her.

She teased him a bit longer before swirling her tongue once around his tip and hallowing out her cheeks as she hummed and waiting as his hips shot forward suddenly and he spilled himself into her, his hands cradling her head to stop from harming her.

Rogue pulled herself up from her kneeling stance adjusting her skirt as she stood up and eyed Remy seductively. She wiped her lips with her fingertips as she looked at him, his chest heaving from the exertion, a thin sheen of sweat lining the perfect muscles of his torso. Rogue caught herself staring and when she looked back up into the demon eyed gaze she felt herself melt a bit at his wolfish grin.

He pulled her once again to his chest feeling her chest against his as he took the perfect plump red lips in his and nibbled at the succulent flesh. Rogue moaned into his mouth and before she knew what was happening Remy had her pinned forcefully against the wall his knee pushing her legs apart as he pinned her wrists on either side of her head.

Rogue smiled into his kiss as she felt one of his hands rove downward and hike her skirt up around her waist. Her chest was filling with air and it seemed to float on the exhilaration of his touch. Rogue let her free hand roam over Remy's toned back and pull at the short hair at the nape of his neck. His rough, calloused hands began to tease her between the fabric of her panties and she felt her hips buck involuntarily and a blush come to her cheeks. Remy smiled at her as he pressed his lips fiercely against hers again, ripping the fragile fabric from her hips and balling it up before pocketing it discreetly.

Remy unsnaked her hand from behind his neck, meaning to pin it once again when Rogue drew forward slyly pressing her delicate hands on his chest once more, sneakily grazing the skin beneath his shirt sleeve that wasn't exposed. Remy hissed at the contact as Rogue nipped at his collarbone and he heard her giggle into his neck, as she suddenly was able to free her other hand and grasp both his biceps tightly in her hands and marvel at the firm muscle beneath her nails.

Remy took that as his cue placing his hands firmly and securely at Rogue's hips as he pushed deep within her feeling as her legs wrapped securely around him. He pushed home once and the connection seemed to never lessen with time. Every time was utter perfection, almost tighter and warmer than the last and Rogue could have sworn that every time Remy pushed in he found a way deeper into her.

Remy swiveled his hips as Rogue began to slip from against the wall and she couldn't help the outburst that rang from her lips into his ears, "R-R-Remy! Don't—Puhhhhleasse!"

She begged for more and Remy kept up the motion as he felt her walls begin to tighten around him in her nearing climax. He took the skin between her shoulder and neck and nibbled gently as his hand delved between their connection to rub circles into her bundle of nerves and Rogue hissed out in wanton.

"Don't puhhlease, don't stop…don't stop!" her words were breathy and uncontrolled and Remy couldn't help but grin at the he could make her unravel.

His fingers swirled with his hips and Rogue was moaning loudly and Remy couldn't help but think that the whole house could hear them. He sped up slightly his fingers dancing across Rogue's skin her breaths becoming more and more shallow.

"Don't…don't…don't….Ah…Ah need thiiisss!" She let out as her hips bucked up into Remy's and her grip tightened on his arms. His fingers left her for a moment only to brush the hair out of her eyes and look into them, he lips open in need.

"Don't plan to chere," he said breathily into her ear as he took her lips in his and pushed into her once more swallowing her screams of rapture, his fingers circling her as she rode wave after wave of bliss, her walls clenching around Remy so hard that he reached his end not long afterward.

The two stood on shaky legs as Remy pulled himself from her his hands on her face as it gently pushed the wisps of her hair form her face. It was something so intimate, so personal and after a moment Rogue couldn't help but turn away from him, her hands pulling her skirt back down and using it as an excuse to hide from his burning gaze, a gaze filled with the truth they both were hiding from.

Remy realized his wrongdoing and pulled his hands away from her face moving them to his slacks buttoning the fly and trying to make do with his shirt that had lost more than a few buttons in the process of their escapade. He buttoned it up as best he could and pulled his trench from off of the chair beside him.

After a few moments Rogue stood before him her arms wrapped around her once more. And stood beside Remy awaiting his next move. Her eyes were downcast once again and Remy couldn't help the next gesture he gave her. Without thinking Remy pulled his trench around her shoulders watching as she sank into it perfectly. She turned to look at him, her emeralds somewhat questioning but liquid, not ice, for the first time, a green that swam within her eyes and once again he saw that vulnerability and before he could rethink his actions she did something unexpected.

"Thanks," her voice was a whisper and when she looked up at him from under her lashes it took all that was in him not to press his lips to hers once again. The kiss would be the limit though. It wouldn't be like the others, this kiss wouldn't be of need, it would be of hope. He knew that they couldn't have that and something swelled and stabbed in the pit of his stomach.

There was another silence before Rogue let out a quick question. "So we should probably brief each other on what we know befo' we head out."

Remy nodded solemnly. "Oui…"

Rogue sighed. "Well Ah guess Ah'll have ta tell ya then."

Remy furrowed his brow at her and turned to face her as he was about to open the door to the hallway. She stopped where she stood and stared down at her feet. She was almost childlike in her actions and it was something that Remy was not used to. All this time he had wanted to hold her, to keep her from getting any more hurt and these were the first real signs he saw that she could be vulnerable, could get hurt.

Rogue took a deep breath and the words seemed to tumble from out of her mouth. "Ah took the cure. Ah was a mutant."

Remy had known this all along. Had know do a certain degree who she was but the fact that she was willing to tell him this seemingly miniscule detail was immense. These words were hefty, weighted and even though the information was already stored in his brain, when it fell from her own lips it meant a thousand times more than anything Logan could have ever told him.

She was vulnerable. She had let down her guard. And he was slowly making his way in. Rogue shivered at the thought. Remy froze with the sudden implications. They were stuck, both vulnerable to the others attack.


	9. Leaving

_**A/N: So I know that I said I was most likely going to update next Sunday but I guess I lied. I just couldn't stop thinking about continuing this damn story and actually wrote this portion while I was on break at work when I was supposed to be studying for a test but hey this is so much more worth it than that stupid government test anyhow. **_

_**Blame or thank Dashboard Confessional for this update because Chris Carraba has literally been inspiring me with his amazingness for the past couple of chapters but especially this one. **_

_**As for my reviewers thanks so much for your kind words and for the rest of you who have read and favorited and story alerted and author alerted it really does mean a lot and I know I thank you guys like every update but it's because those emails I get make me all giddy and think that I'm doin' a good job.**_

_**So enjoy this extra early update, there should be another very soon as I could not stop writing! :D**_

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><p>Chapter 9- Leaving<p>

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><p>"<em>The only thing more unthinkable than leaving was staying; the only thing more impossible than staying was leaving."<em>

_Eat, Pray, Love- Elizabeth Gilbert_

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><p>Leaving couldn't have been harder and it couldn't have been easier. Rogue was used to running, had been running since she was fifteen. Leaving was easy, it was the preparation that was hard; it was the things that were left behind that made things hard. Leaving was easy. She wished she could say it was true this time.<p>

She knew deep down that everything was set to change. This trip was going to make things happen and it frightened Rogue, made her wish that she were actually running. Leaving behind New Orleans would have been easy, if it wasn't for the fact that she had Cody, had Carol, had done what she wasn't supposed to: get attached.

There were still those little things to attend to. Those preparations that made leaving all the more difficult. She could have lied and said that she didn't rush from the Guild Headquarters and to the house, the one she inhabited during the time she wasn't working or playing touch me with the Cajun.

She had left a conversation, had watched as Remy's face had contorted with the need to know more and excused herself to get ready for the next day, for the work ahead. He didn't stop her; he never did stop her from leaving. Maybe he knew it came easy to her. Maybe he knew that she would come back eventually. Maybe he knew the simple things that even Rogue couldn't explain about herself. That thought sent a shiver down her spine.

It was the early morning and still dark outside, the grey just barely becoming brighter, just barely showing the thinly veiled hope of the sun. Rogue felt the chill of the morning air wash over her despite the fact that she was inside. She looked over to Cody's sleeping form, his passed out stance in the bed that they happened to share on occasion when Rogue could stomach lying next to what she had no other choice but to call a man. She knew he wouldn't be waking up any time soon.

Leaving was easy; it was coming back that would be difficult. All she needed to do was leave a note. State the obvious. Then a vague place she'd be for the next week, something he'd believe but wouldn't care enough to check into. The lie was the core of the preparation. Her hand tensed as she began to scrawl simple words across the paper in small cramped writing.

She finished with a kiss on the paper trying to fight back the bile that rose up in her stomach. She turned back to look at the blond haired boy. He was less horrifying when he was sleeping, not less disgusting but any fear that had become deeply rooted in her seemed to ease when she would watch him sleep. Rogue didn't realize she was crying until the salty tear had made its way into her mouth. She shook her head, freeing herself from all the trivial nonsense she was currently feeling at the moment before she placed the note on the bedside table and shouldered her duffle bag quietly sneaking from the house remembering how easy it was to leave. It sent a thrilling electric feeling up her spine.

The sun had barely begun to rise, the tips, thin wisps of the clouds turning orange with its ascent into the sky. Rogue took a deep breath of cold morning air, relishing in the chill that made itself known against her cheeks as she readjusted her duffle bag and met the taxi at the next corner.

"South Street Baptist Hospital," she told the cab driver as he pulled away from the neighborhood. You would never be able to tell that things so horrendous could happen in this place; amongst the willow trees and scent of red beans and rice; could never be able to tell that someone like her had disappeared.

The cold crisp angular building cut out from the majority of the other architecture around it. Rogue could see the nurses switching shifts, walking towards bus stops to make their way home from graveyard shifts. She smiled as she passed a few here and there making her way up the only way she knew how.

When she finally made it to Carol's hall she found it desolate and quiet, aside from the beeping from a few monitors. Rogue crept into the room half expecting to see the blond haired woman who at one time held so much power in the palm of her hands smiling, holding some mundane conversation with a nurse who was checking her vitals. This wasn't what Rogue found however and as she stepped into the room she felt the sobs begin uncontrollably.

Carol's skin had lost much of the golden hue it had in her healthy days, her hair lacking its shine and luster, her eyes closed and crusted at the edges, her lips dry and chapped but somehow Rogue couldn't deny the woman's beauty. She could chock it up to saint-like morality but Rogue knew Carol in her prime, knew when she was a goddess in a leather suit. Rogue's tears fell heavily as she tossed aside the duffle bag and slowly approached Carol's bedside.

Rogue's hands were shaking, fingertips numb as she pushed her hand towards the invalid in the hospital bed. She wrapped her hand around Carol's stiff flesh, her hand melding into the icy grasp of the comatose woman and she sobbed, sobbed so uncontrollably that Rogue could have sworn that her chest was tearing open with each and every breath.

She was taking deep breathes, hoping to calm her nerves, to catch herself and be able to do what she had come here for. It took a long time before Rogue could muster enough breath and courage to finally being but once she did she knew it would be almost impossible to stop.

"C-C-Carol?" Rogue's voice was still shaky, and the raspiness of her tears made it so her voice reverberated off of every wall.

"C-C-Carol Ah…Ah…A-Ah don't know how ta say this. It will neva be enough. Neva be enough ta say Ah'm sorry. Will neva be enough fo' me ta tell ya that it was all a simple mistake, that ya were neva supposed ta get hurt. It counts fo' nothin' and- and Ah know that now," Rogue's voice was gaining strength as she spoke, her tears pouring endlessly from her eyes, trails lining her red cheeks.

"Ah am s-s-sorry Carol. If anyone deserves ta be in this bed dyin' it's me," Rogue collapsed onto Carol's lifeless form at that moment her face buried in the covers at Carol's abdomen as her hands gripped the bedding, clutching at the cold flesh.

"Ah'm so sorry….so sorry. Ah don't deserve ta live….it was a mistake…Ah took ya life…Ah took ya life Carol…Ah took away ya life. Ah'm so sorry…Ah deserve ta die….Ah deserve ya punishment. Ah'm so sorry Cody…so sorry…so sorry…." Her whimpers segued to sobs once more and her body shook violently and her voice seemed to scream for something, for someone to just hold her.

She wished she could end it all, to just put the pain and suffering she caused, bottle it up and unleash it upon herself. She didn't deserve anything less than pain, than the pain of living with her sins. Her body still shaky and her stomach still immensely queasy Rogue got up and ran to the toilet the bile making its way up her throat and out of her mouth as she spewed into the porcelain.

The acid bit at her tongue and her body lurched forward once more as she heaved again and the contents of her stomach spilled into the bowl of the toilet. Rogue rose on shaky hands as she wiped the sides of her mouth and flushed twice the stink of vomit pervading the antiseptic smell of the hospital.

She washed her hands and rinsed her mouth out before staring into the mirror. Her lips were bright red and chapped her face overall taking on a rather rose hued color that made her feel like she was hot as she pressed a cold hand to her cheek to take her temperature. Her eyes were blotchy and puffy but the emerald green irises stared back at her with bright vivacity. She was a devil, a green eyed demon. Poisonous and evil.

Anger surged through her and Rogue wished for nothing more than to scream whatever was left in her lungs out and tear at her own flesh, pick it from her bones. She was shaking once more and she gritted her teeth letting out a small feral growl, tears once more spilling onto her cheeks. Her fist made contact with the porcelain sink and she continued to sob. Her hands wiped the tears away from her face; she splashed water upon her heated skin and turned away from the bathroom.

She stood in the doorway, staring at Carol's already dead body knowing it was her fault that she lie in that hospital bed. She took in a deep breath, picked up her duffle bag, and crossed to Carol's side for the last time pressing her lips to the former goddess' forehead.

"Ah'm sorry Carol. Ah'm so sorry. Ah will miss ya mah friend," Rogue whispered, her lips quivering against, Carol's cold skin. And with that she left whatever she had known behind. Leaving was supposed to be easy. But then again nothing for her was ever easy.

_**A Few Hours Later**_

Remy was standing outside of the Lebeau Mansion at ten in the morning, his arms folded across his chest as he leaned lazily against the town car, his trench wrapped around him, a simple pair of dark washed denim jeans and a dark purple t-shirt clung to his body, a pair of sunglasses shielding his eyes from the unknowing world.

Things were never simple for him. Maybe his clothes would say different, the ease with which he could pull off any look, but in all reality the world threw him curveballs far too often. Like Rogue. The woman whose relationship with him was growing at an exponential rate despite the fact that neither party wanted it to. He tried to keep his mind on casual terms, like the jeans and t-shirt but sometimes, more often than not, Remy Lebeau had to make things complicated.

He gazed down at his watch. She was fifteen minutes late and punctuality was a definite must for the guild. If you were two seconds late it could mean you were also cut into two million tiny little pieces because you got caught. For a second Remy worried that something had happened to her and then frustration began to well up in his chest as he let out a growl. Things were simple, professional. He had to keep reminding himself of that.

His heart began a more even pace when he watched a cab pull up and watched as she stepped from the back seat a duffle bag slung over her shoulder her eyes puffy and red. Her hair was down the short waves clouding her expressionless face. He sighed. She was making things difficult for him, making it hard for him not to care. She approached him slowly as if she was thinking up excuses and he tried to crack a grin to ease the tension like he usually would but it didn't work.

There was something so solemn about how she looked, about the way she walked, like she had run into death on the way there. He stood up from his leaning position and moved towards her his hand resting on the duffle bag. Rogue pulled it away from his hands and he quirked his eyebrows over his sunglasses.

"Pack enough, chère or did y' forget y' eighteen pairs of shoes?" Remy mocked her childishly grinning only mildly as he attempted to take the bag from her.

Rogue rolled her eyes and let out a gust of breath shifting the bag on her shoulder once more as Remy finally pulled it into his hands and attempted to slide the strap from off of her shoulder.

"Ya mind not manhandlin' mah stuff Swamp Rat!" Rogue spat at him.

Well this trip was going to be fun, Remy thought as he kept his grip on the bag wrenching it from Rogue's grasp and shouldering the strap with a mischievous grin making her narrow her eyes at him. He didn't know why it was so fun to antagonize her sometimes, maybe it was her exaggerated reactions or the way that it ultimately ended up in her giving into her carnal thoughts but he couldn't stop himself sometimes. He would never admit that he actually got pleasure from taking her mind off of whatever other worldly annoyances plagued her, that if he could refocus her thoughts to how absolutely ridiculous he was it could save her some pain. That would be too much. It wouldn't be simple and it sure as hell wouldn't be professional.

"Jus' tryin' ta do de gentlemanly t'ing and get y' bag fo' y' mon cherie," Remy chuckled back at her. Rogue let out a frustrated groan. "Dat and its guild policy ta check associates bags befo' we leave. Wonder what kinda nightwear y' packed," he said waggling his eyebrows at her.

Rogue's mouth fell open as she stared back at Remy with seething eyes once more, he couldn't help the smile that made its way to his lips. She was just so damn sexy when she was irritated with him. Rogue grabbed her duffle bag and snatched it away from Remy clutching it to her chest.

"Ya ain't checkin' shit," Rogue gritted out of her teeth as she made her way around to the passenger seat of the town car.

Remy chuckled, "D'accord, mais, y' have ta promise y' don't plan on killin' moi on dis here trip."

Rogue flicked her neck towards him over her shoulder as she dipped into the car.

"Ah'm gonna have ta live with ya fo' more than a week. Ah'm not makin' any promises Ah can't keep," she retorted with a small smile and Remy smirked devilishly.

So maybe it wasn't as complicated as he thought. This was simple enough wasn't it? At least it was at the moment as the town car pulled away from the Lebeau Mansion and towards the private airstrip the guild commissioned for their private use. Remy leaned into the backseat his muscles relaxing into the leather upholstery, his arms behind his head as Rogue rigidly pushed her body towards the passenger door not looking at him at all. Okay maybe simple wasn't the right word.

After a few minutes of silence the town car pulled up to the lone jet on the small strip of land that led to nowhere. Remy let out a great gust of air as he stretched his arms up over his head and exited the car moving to the trunk to remove his own black duffle bag, waiting as Rogue stumbled from the car under the weight of her possessions and desperately trying to hold back his laughter.

Rogue walked passed him and up to the stairs that led to the jet. "Ya are worse than a teenage boy, _Mr. Lebeau_," Rogue mocked him scathingly as she sashayed up the steps.

"All men turn ta teenage boys around beautiful femmes, mon belle River Rat," Remy whispered into her ear as he passed her on the steps running up towards the doorway leaving Rogue to huff behind him and rush forwards to try and beat him.

Remy dropped his duffle to the floor of the jet. Rogue turned the corner and spotted for the first time what a real luxury jet was supposed to look like and her jaw dropped to the floor. Remy smirked as he moved to the bar inset in the center wall that lead to the cockpit pouring himself a hearty glass of bourbon. The X-Jet was militarily styled, this plane was not. It was all leather and curves, comfortability put first not the need to defend. She chocked it up to the thieves need to blend in but surely this was not a great way to keep their cover. The leather wasn't the cream color she would have expected and she realized the midnight black with red pin stripping upholstery and decorations was most likely influenced by the demon eyed man standing in front of her.

Rogue rolled her eyes as she placed her duffle on one of the empty luxury seats and took a seat on one of the long couch like cushions spreading her dark green traveling cloak behind her to reveal a simple white t-shirt and tight denim jeans. Simplicity worked for her Remy thought, grinning around the rim of his bourbon glass.

"Ya betta stop grinnin' befo' Ah pop ya one Cajun," Rogue stated her eyes closed. She was extremely exhausted already, this morning had worn her out and the very thought of Carol and Cody churned the stomach acid within her intestines.

Remy raised one of his eyebrows holding his bourbon glass to his perfect lips, "Quoi now dis here Cajun can't put a smile on dis here devilishly handsome face."

Rogue shook her head as she leaned it back making herself more comfortable on the small couch, "Not if it means ya thinkin' perverse things, Swamp Rat."

"What makes y' t'ink I'm t'inking of perverse things?" Remy asked taking faux offense at her accusation.

"Because all ya do is think perverse things," Rogue stated calmly and Remy couldn't help but shrug his shoulders and nod in agreement. When it came to her it was hard not to think of absolutely dirty, sinful things. He almost liked the fact that she knew that.

Remy moved to the couch across from her and sat down spreading his arms as per usual across the top of the leather seat. He took one last sip from his bourbon before placing the empty glass in a cup holder. After a few minutes the plane was making its ascent and Remy felt his stomach drop at the gain of altitude.

He looked over at Rogue who seemed too caught up in her own thoughts for his liking. If she was thinking it most likely wasn't about anything good, that much he could tell from the way her face was almost contorted into a painful expression, her creamy skin even paler. Her hood was up and it shielded her face to some degree, casting dark shadows across her face in an almost dreadful way. Remy caught himself finding the beauty despite the pain and rather than over think what he should say next he merely began a conversation.

"So I should pro'ly brief y' on what's gonna happen when we land," his tone was casual as he played the part of leisurely businessman perfectly.

Rogue opened her eyes for a second before sitting up, pulling her hood down and shooting Remy a deathly gaze before raising her eyebrows in a fashion to say that she was paying attention. Couldn't he see that she didn't want to be bothered? Damnit she had enough on her mind when he wasn't around irritating her and…taking her mind off of things better left in the past.

"Go on," she said resting her chin in the palm of her hand like a bored student in class.

"When we get ta Los Angeles dere will be a car ta pick us up. We are posin' as a married couple. Francois and Marie Dubois. I'm a mutant experiencing full regeneration from de Cure, y' are mon wife a former mutant as well however y' are experiencing no side effects from de Cure," Remy stated apathetically.

"Why are we both mutants?" Rogue asked pointedly. They only needed one to get into the trial what is the use of them both trying to get in, especially if she had really taken the Cure and was experiencing no side effects.

"Jus' a matter of insurance," Remy continued sitting up slightly on the couch. "Don' want ta leave any holes in de plan. More likely ta believe two mutants got married an' took de Cure togetha dan a mutant and a regular person. Anyways, once we get ta Los Angeles we will set up an appointment wit de company fo' a look inta compensation fo' de regeneration in which case dey will give us de opportunity ta be a part of de trial and we do reconnaissance from dere, comprenz?" he asked pulling up his empty bourbon glass and frowning and furrowing his brows when realizing it in fact had no alcohol.

Rogue leaned back against the seat as he finished closing her eyes once more. She remembered the feeling of going on a mission, the thrill of it, the thought of using her powers for good. Look where that had gotten her, one of her closest friends and mentors dead and the boy she had loved for the majority of her childhood in a coma for ten years because of her. Here she was doing it again and for what.

She had helped the guild out because she heard it was the only way to keep the thugs off of your back and to stop the assassins from trying to recruit you. New Orleans was a dangerous place, she had heard that before, but now that she was a brand new Rogue she was more prone to danger. She needed insurance and when a friend at the diner had told her that the best way to do that was to turn over information to the Thieves Guild she didn't think too much of it.

She didn't hand over much, just a few tidbits here and there. Nothing about the X-Men, nothing that could lead them back to the family she had forsaken, betrayed because of one tiny mistake that cost her the life of someone so dear to her. She need to right her wrongs and New Orleans was the only place to do that and the Guild was the only way to assure her she could make things right.

So here she was, once again embarking on a mission. The first post-Cure and she could have sworn she felt that tingle run through her fingers down to her toes, the one she used to get when she'd drained someone. It made her stomach drop and her eyes opened suddenly in fear. She stared at Remy wide eyed her irises gleaming in emerald innocence and Remy's face reflected an air of concern. Rogue couldn't take that. She could take him ravishing her, she could take him being an idiot, she could take him being irritating, but she could not take him being concerned for her.

Rogue quickly turned away from him swinging her legs up on the couch and facing the wall, pulling her hood around her face as she thought of the horrible sensation that had just ran through her fingers. She was just overreacting it was nothing. Nothing at all. She was fine. Rogue stared at her fingertips and hoped to the dear lord that that was all it was. She was leaving, she tried to focus on that, on the fleeting feeling in her fingertips as it left her skin. It was leaving. She was leaving.


	10. Posing is Easier Than It Looks

_**A/N: Okay I know I really messed up by not updating this Sunday like I was supposed to but I have been bogged down by work, like crazy and I really just needed some time to relax. That being said all that relaxing just led to more writing so I have another ROMY fic in the works, big surprise but it also meant that this hasn't been updated on time. **_

_**Anyways I hope this update makes up for it, it might seem like a filler chapter but I think its necessary for the other things to be set in motion that I want. Hope you enjoy and know that I promise not to update any other stories until this one is finished! unless of course there is a great demand for them but so far this is the only one getting a lot of attention at the moment so it shouldn't conflict. **_

_**Thanks as usual to my reviewers and please don't be shy about voicing what you like or things you wish to see because I do take your comments into account when writing. Okay here it is.**_

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><p>Chapter 10- Posing is Easier Than It Looks<p>

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><p>"<em>Fake is as old as the Eden tree."<em>

_Orson Welles_

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><p>After a seven hour flight Remy would've expected to be drunk off his ass. It's what he usually did on long flights as it was the only thing to do other than sleep, or play solitaire, or annoy whoever decided to make their way across the world with him. But he was overcome with the notion that something wasn't quite right.<p>

Sure there was the fact that the young woman from the diner, the onetime conquest with the body of a goddess and the face of an angel had somehow made herself a semi-permanent fixture in his life but there was something else. He was once again thinking about those secrets she held so close to her chest. The way she had turned over and ignored him, it irked him, made him think that something else was going on.

There was nothing going on between them besides the physical and the professional so he didn't expect her to trust him but there was so much he wanted to help her with. He knew there was a degree of danger hidden behind those lush red lips and deep green eyes but he was so drawn in by more than her beauty it made him forsake those intuitions. He wanted to bridge the gap between the physical and professional, wanted to know those secrets.

He wanted to know what stories held that pain in those beautiful eyes, wanted to know who the party responsible was for making tears stain her cherubic face. But that was too much. He was asking too much. But he was thief and asking wasn't exactly something he was accustomed to. He was used to taking. This job would require subtly however.

He shivered at the thought as the plane started to descend on to the airstrip in Los Angeles. She wasn't something to be analyzed like some job. He was so confused. She was making him rethink everything about himself, all the prior titles he had held dear going out the window for one femme. She was just another woman. So why was she the only woman he could think about?

The nights when he would be at Bourbon Blues and used to enjoy the pleasure of watching beautiful women were few and far between for him and he realized it was because no one held a candle to her. They were all insignificant women. She was so much more, she held secrets, held a depth of intelligence and knowledge and something more that kept him needing more, more of her skin, more her lips, more of her.

She had him eating out of the palm of her hand and he knew it and hated it. He felt like he was playing into some hand that she had dealt him, luring him in with her brick wall, with that arm's distance mantra that kept them so far apart. Less than a month ago Remy Lebeau was a womanizer and here he was a month later practically going insane over one woman. He pushed his hair back, his head in his hands. But there was something about her that was worth it. That much he could tell. She was a rough edged diamond; she was worth the cuts and scrapes that took getting it out of the damn dirt.

The plane pulled into the tarmac and Remy watched her sleeping form, the way her lips parted ever so slightly with her each breath and the slow and steady rise and fall of her chest. The way the wisps of white framed her face and the lashes that curled from her closed eyes. She was beautiful and he knew it. Probably the most beautiful woman he had ever met and he couldn't have her. She wouldn't let him. He let out a deep breath as the captain emerged from the cockpit.

"Mr. Lebeau we have arrived in Los Angeles," his voice was the demeaning quality of a servant and Remy simply nodded standing up and walking over to Rogue. "Would you like us to wake her sir?"

"Non, I'll carry her," Remy stated simply as he draped his trench over her and she wriggled into it her breath hitching for a moment before picking its pace back up.

Remy pulled her into his arms easily with thief-like skill, cradling her to his chest. Rogue's arms wrapped around his neck slowly and he looked down into her face to see she was still deep in slumber a smile gracing her lips. He couldn't help but smile back down at her. She felt the warm wash of his breath and for a moment she knew she was dreaming because his firm, gentle arms were cradling her towards him. She smiled and moved her face to the crook of his neck her breath tickling his skin.

Remy tried not to snicker at the sensation. He brushed his lips against her ear for a moment before proceeding to carry her out of the jet to yet another town car that waited to take them to the small guild villa just outside of the city. He set her down on the leather seats sliding in beside her as her head found its place in his lap of its own accord, snuggling closer to him.

It wasn't fair. That she was like this unconsciously. Didn't it just prove that she felt something more for him than lust or frustration? He wanted to hope so, but that hope would spawn even worse things in his heart. He couldn't allow himself to be weak; she had already made him too vulnerable for his liking, she had already made him a part of her whether she knew it or not.

He brushed the hair out of her face soothingly as the car pulled away from the tarmac and drove through pillars of light and streets lined with small puddles of water. It had just recently rained and the water refracted every dim orange light creating a dreamlike aura that had Remy dozing in his seat as he stroked Rogue's cheek. He wished that this moment could go on forever, this dream like instance that seemed to just be the perfect part of him and of her, together.

It was then that he realized just how young she really was. She wasn't a little girl, not a child but when she was asleep she could fool anyone. He kept his fingertips at her cheek, crossing the silky skin every so often. He knew she had to be at least twenty five, still at the threshold of youth and adulthood, but she seemed so much older in her actions. He could tell that she put up the façade of being older than what she was and it was at that moment he realized she was his exact opposite in almost every way.

From the time he had turned eighteen, Remy had been trying to stop himself from growing up. He didn't want the responsibility to hang on his shoulders, to be the only thing to define who he was. He acted out, he was rebellious and it did him no good. It didn't take away from the fact that he had skills beyond measure and that his last name happened to be Lebeau. There were things that Remy just couldn't out run, couldn't leave behind, things that would always define who he was. She was different.

She didn't let things define her, didn't let simple things like the past get in her way. She was so young but he knew she had the heart to run. She was rebelling now, was giving into her namesake now. He knew she had never before been the type not to take directions, to be rebellious. She was finding her own way now. Why else would she have left a group as close and accepting as the X-Men behind?

Remy remembered back to the days when he had helped the team out, had been a part of it for however short a time. It was a family; but he never felt like he quite belonged. Maybe it was the rules, maybe it was the fact that he was a thief and no one trusted him, or the fact that he didn't have his powers under control then but he didn't quite fit. He knew how that felt; to be the outcast, to be pushed away. She had reminded him of that. The feelings of inadequacy. He looked down at her heavy lidded eyes, watching as the breath puffed out of her chubby lips and sighed. She was so much; so hard to crack. But it wasn't like he was telling her his past either.

What was it that made him think he had earned her trust? A few nights between her legs, making her more than a regular? Or was it the way she pleaded with him or the light that flickered through her eyes when she saw him? He couldn't tell, didn't know for sure what it was but his intuition, his instincts told him there was something there she found intriguing. Why else would she agree to such things with him? He found himself for the first time in his life deliberating whether a woman actually had feelings for him.

The car slowly pulled up the driveway of the villa. A small, but as usual, luxurious home. The driver dragged their bags to the door as Remy cradled Rogue and slowly stepped into the house they would be sharing for the next couple of weeks. A quiver went down his spine. Sure there would be fun but he worried that if her or his temper got the best of them in these next few days everything might fall apart like the house of cards it was.

The driver placed their bags in the living room and Remy thanked him as he walked down the hallway finding the master bedroom, laying Rogue softly down on the king-sized bed with thief-like ease watching for a moment as she snuggled into the blankets easily. He pulled the comforter around her shoulders and despite knowing better, despite knowing it crossed all boundaries they had both put up he placed a simple kiss to her forehead.

"Sleep tight, mon belle River Rat," he whispered against her skin not noticing the serene smile that crossed her face as he did so. Rogue was dreaming of him.

Remy stepped out into the living room to begin planning. The next couple of weeks were going to be hectic and they were going to need a tight plan just to get into the Worthington Labs. Remy flipped open his laptop and logged into the Thieves Guild, CIA and FBI databases cross checking all of the information he had. This was going to prove difficult and that made his wolfish grin appear at the corner of his lips. He was always up for a challenge. The thought seeped in and he knew that work wasn't the only thing he was thinking about.

_**A Few Hours Later**_

_The rock beneath her feet was gravelly and unstable and Rogue found herself slipping as she ran. Her lungs were screaming for air, her muscles on fire from the constant movement but she had to keep going, had to keep running or be lost forever. _

_ She couldn't see where she was going, it was pitch black and all that lit the darkness was an ever dimming spark of fire in the distance. She could feel him behind her, could feel the cold creep over her as she kept sprinting towards the tiny spark of light. The dark seemed to grapple with her, to stretch its limbs out and tackle her to the ground that was slipping beneath her feet. _

_ The icy frost crept upon her once more but she dare not look behind her as she trudged forward. It kept coming, hard and fast, and she knew that it would consume, would find a way to keep her in the icy clutches of the dark. She pulled free of the darkness's grasp, and ran and ran and ran until she felt like she could run no more, the flames in the distance seeming only to tease her with their presence. _

_ Rogue kept her pace, kept striving forward but the chill hit her bones, she could feel it creep up her spine and watched as wisps of air escaped her mouth and her teeth chattered within her skull. She was shaking just to stay warm and every step she took it felt like her body was frozen solid. The flames ignited, ever brighter in the distance and she strove forward with the hope of being greeted by the inferno._

_ But her foot was caught, held by the darkness, and she was so close. So close to the warmth of the flames, to the floating sparks beckoning her towards them. She dragged her feet from the muck, mustering what little power she had left to pull herself forward and once free she tumbled into the waiting warmth. She felt a kiss against her hair as the fire engulfed her and she smiled. It was where she was meant to be, inside the inferno. _

Rogue was startled awake finding herself in unfamiliar quarters. Everything was off-white and pristine, reminding her of the house of someone with a taste for luxury and minimalist style. She rubbed her eyes looking around the simple room adorned with dark wood and white furnishings. She fumbled in the dark for a light, sitting up suddenly, attempting to remember something. She had been on a plane, with Remy Lebeau on the way to Los Angeles. So where was she now?

Her fingertips brushed past skin and she turned over suddenly, her eyes seeking the object in the dark, frightened of what it could be. Her eyes found scarlet irises and a devilish smirk in the dark and her heart sank. This was a dangerous setting. This was a dangerous time. But her body seemed to tell her she was safe, that everything was alright. She knew it was wrong.

Remy moved his arm along her waist, gently brushing her arm, a sleepy look in his eyes. She looked so alert and for a moment he wished she had been a part of the Thieves Guild sooner, her natural skills were quite amazing. He gave her the cat-that-got-the-canary grin of his and licked his lips.

"It's late petite, lay back down. Sleep. We 'ave a lot ta do in de mornin'," his voice was deep velvet, sending waves of warmth through her body.

Rogue looked about herself once more, trying to take in her surroundings. They surely weren't on the plane anymore. She was sitting all the way up, looking down at Remy. He was wearing the same clothes he had when they had departed from New Orleans.

"Where are we?" Rogue's voice was still hoarse from sleep, but her eyes, scouring the room for some unknown danger were vigilant.

"At de guild villa jus' outside o' Los Angeles. Come back ta bed. It's late," Remy soothed as he rubbed circles in her back.

"W-what time is it? How long have Ah been asleep?" Rogue questioned rubbing her head, feeling the small beads of sweat against her skin from her previous slumber.

"It's about trois in de mornin'. We been here since 'bout six last night. Y' slept de whole plane ride, didn't wanna wake y' so put y' in de room," Remy whispered sleepily, a yawn escaping his perfect lips. "Come on chere. I jus' laid down and I'm really tired."

Rogue stared down at him. This was not something that was professional. They weren't supposed to be doing this sort of thing. But somehow it felt right to feel his hands on her, to feel the steady breath leave his lips and hit her skin. Rogue slowly slid down into the bed, wriggling underneath the covers as she faced Remy, his eyes glowing in the darkness of the room.

Her skin was crawling and she couldn't help but stare back at him. This was too easy, she felt too comfortable lying there beside him, looking into his eyes with her hands beneath her head, his hand at her waist. Remy wasn't trying to push anything, wasn't attempting to break down her walls. This was just plain and simple, part of posing for the job. So why did it feel so real? Why was this so easy?

Remy swept the hair out her eyes to better see her wide eyed expression, her pupils a deep black in the dark, highlighting the luminescent green orbs. Rogue felt herself give over to his fingertips and closed her eyes to the sensation. She was exhausted and she was unsure why, didn't know why her body had seemed so heavy but the second her lids fell closed she felt her unconscious give over to dreamland.

Remy was amazed at how easily she had given over to him. Was it merely her sleepiness, or had he somehow put a crack in the wall she constantly put up? He stared down at her once more, the sleep showing the beauty he knew to be all too real. His gut quivered. There was something different to this. It was too simple. They were both too complicated.

He didn't care. If this was all he was going to get, he'd take it for what it was. It was a moment that would not come again, he knew that for sure and rather than question, rather than fight it he fell into the simple pace of her breathing, his body matching hers with an ease he didn't think possible.

He pulled her body closer to hers, feeling her body shiver against his, her skin almost icy. He wanted to melt that ice, find a way to the flesh and blood. Maybe this was that happening. He wouldn't question it. He would just hold her because that's all he wanted to do and that terrified him. He just wanted to have her next to him and he knew that was wrong no matter how right it felt.

She was faintly aware of Remy's body pressed against hers, of his head resting on hers, her head nestled into the crook of his neck, her hands gripping his shirt in the dark, their hips pressed flush against each other. Rogue gave over to his inferno, loving the feeling of being burnt.


	11. Are Ya Prepared for This

_**A/N: So everyone who is currently invested in this story is allowed to cyber murder me for taking so long to update. I know I hate myself probably more than any of you can for not keeping up with this damn story and I have a great deal more of story in mind so thankfully its not ending any time soon and since it is summer and I have loads more time on my hands I plan on updating a lot I promise, and this time I'll keep it. **_

_**Thank you as always to my awesome reviewers and story alerters and favoriters you guys rock my freaking world and make me want to keep writing these stories. **_

_**So this is my first update of the day and I plan on updating again later on today so two for one to make up for being the lamest ass in the world and not updating for like two months. **_

_**Hope you enjoy! R&R porfavor! :D**_

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><p>Chapter 11- Are Ya Prepared For This<p>

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><p><em>"Be prepared for the worst, my love,<em>

_ because it lives next door to the best"_

_Melina Marchetta, Finnikin of the Rock_

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><p>When Rogue awoke the next morning the sun had barely begun to rise and the streaks it left across the bed from the blinds mingled with her vision to create an odd almost unearthly brightness. She could have sworn what she saw couldn't be real, that lying in this cushy bed far away from the things that plagued her in New Orleans, hell for all her life were gone, were left behind.<p>

She opened her eyes fully, seeing the mussed sheets and realizing that she was alone. She wondered for a moment if she had dreamed about the exchange with Remy, if in fact it was just an extension of her subconscious. She sat up in the bed quickly, looking about herself. She was still wearing her clothes from the trip minus her hunter green traveling cloak and her shoes.

Her head was throbbing and her skin was overheated but her body felt more than exhausted. She had slept for over twelve hours but for some reason she couldn't shake this weariness set deep within the tissues of her body. She fell back against the pillows wondering idly where Remy had gone to.

With the light of day filtering in through the blinds Rogue could finally take in her surroundings. The room was just as she had seen it before, chic and minimalist but luxurious none the less. It dawned on her that this trip was more than the professional job she thought she was being forced to take.

They had crossed a line last night. No, he had. She didn't ask for him to hold her close, didn't ask for him to care enough to not wake her, didn't ask for him to meddle in what were obviously her affairs. But she had allowed him to.

She took in a deep breath her arms lying at her sides, the breath leaving with a dull ache in her chest. She swallowed loudly and the fear pulsed through her. She had enjoyed it. Had wanted him to pull her closer to him. This was no longer just a one night stand, no longer just the sexual outlet it once had been. But it also wasn't a job either.

He was too close. Always so close, too close to her. She could smell his musk on the sheets, could feel the imprint of his warmth left on the plush mattress as if he had still been lying there. She had warned herself about his heat, about the burning sensation he sent running through her veins and the danger it brought with it.

She was addicted to the feeling and it was so wrong. Rogue gritted her teeth as she lay on the bed, eyes closed, weak, waiting for something to happen. A tingle returned to her fingertips. It was all too much, this lack of strength, lack of will to control what was happening to her. But hadn't that been what she was seeking.

She needed that lack of control. She had been without it for so long that it felt wrong to not have someone else at the reins. At first it had been her powers, but after the Cure she had nothing to dictate her every move and that freedom came with an unknown that she didn't know how to handle. She returned to her roots, to the boy she had once loved and he had given her what she thought she needed, he took the reins for her. She yearned for someone to take responsibility and beat it into her.

Rogue trembled on top of the sheets and felt a cold sweat break out on her brow. Her stomach was flipping and there was pain coursing through her veins. She opened her emerald green eyes and felt the blood drain from her face. This was not supposed to be happening.

Remy was sitting in the shower, the heat of the water washing over his back as he gripped at the tiles and leaned his head down over the rush of the water letting it pool into his mouth as he breathed in steadily. What was he doing?

This morning, didn't he know he was crossing a line? It had been one thing to carry her home, to be gentle enough to lay her down in his bed and let her sleep but it had been a whole 'nother thing to climb into that bed with her and fall asleep himself.

Remy clenched his jaw and his fists against the tile of the shower mentally beating himself over the head for what he had done. This was a job, this was his redemption job and he was letting things get personal before they had even started.

He had never slept with a woman. Not actually slept with one, sex yes, ravished yes, brought to the peak yes, but slumber was never a part of the deal. Remy thought back to Belle, back to Genevieve, and thought about the many nights they had spent together. None of them had ever ended up with him finding peace in slumber while they were in his arms.

He had held them, even allowed them to fall into a dream state, but he was always vigilant, always on guard because there was never a time when he could fully trust these women. The realization crossed through his consciousness.

He shuddered beneath the searing hot water. No, he didn't trust her. He couldn't. He wasn't supposed to get attached to her; he wasn't supposed to trust her. He was a thief; he always had to keep in mind the manipulative and underhanded qualities people were capable of.

So why had he fallen asleep in her arms, warming her icy body with his? Why had he thought of her needs before his own? He was Remy Lebeau, known lothario, known thief, known scoundrel, known for only thinking of himself and nothing else. So why did she mean so much more than himself?

He had stopped living up to that reputation long ago. He knew there were things more important than himself but it was different. She wasn't his family, she wasn't the Guild, she wasn't his responsibility but the second he had spotted her in that diner she had become just that.

He felt like he needed to care for her, needed to have her. At first he thought the possession was a lust driven conquest but in fact deep down it was so much more. She was calling out to him with those siren-like emerald eyes and he answered the call. His stomach was quivering.

This was no longer professional, it was something inexplicable. He couldn't trust her, she didn't trust him. So why did he find himself excusing the very actions he knew were inexcusably wrong.

Remy waited for the bile in the pit of his gut to calm down before shutting off the water and wrapping a towel around his waist. There was too much to do today. The job had to come first, feelings could come later. Once this was over, things would change. He would have to let go. The question was would he be able to.

Remy exited the bathroom and looked to the bed to see Rogue, lying flat on her back, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged, her face pale and drained of any color, her lips almost a purple color. Worry immediately flooded his veins as he looked upon her and his first reaction was instinctual.

"Chère?" he approached her quickly his hand at the side of her neck checking her pulse as if she was a dead corpse.

Rogue took in a sudden deep breath flying upward towards Remy's touch, her eyes bursting open at the sudden contact and a shocked expression taking over her countenance.

She gazed into Remy's eyes desperately trying to catch her breath and steady the dizziness filling her head with a thick cloud. Remy's eyes blazed with fear as he watched her sway on the bed, her body almost unresponsive and extremely icy to his touch.

Remy sat beside her hurriedly as he stared into her eyes, dull and lifeless and yet full of fear.

"Rogue, are y'…What's goin' on?" his tone was thick with concern and the deep baritone flecked with anger for an instant.

Rogue attempted to steady herself, her hand moving to her forehead as she wiped the cold sweat from her brow and shook convulsively with the action. Her head swung almost in a motion of refusal as the words fell from her mouth meek yet stern.

"Nothin' Ah'm fine, jus'…Ah jus' need a hot shower is all."

She slowly and with wobbly limbs moved to the side of the bed all the while Remy watched with incredulous eyes. He moved around to the other side of the bed and grasped her waist helping her up. Rogue's eyes met his with a furious glare as her weak muscles urged her to push him away from her.

"Ah'm fine!" she shouted.

Remy gazed down at her with contemptuous eyes.

"Non, y' not. We need ta get y' ta a docta," Remy stated seeing in her eyes what he had only seen once before in the eyes of someone he had also truly cared for.

Rogue shoved him away, the force sending her tumbling towards the bed as she barely caught herself on the soft mattress unable to stand on her two feet fully on her own. Remy pulled her once more to him and she resentfully glowered at him.

"Ah don't need ya help!" Rogue refused to back down her arms pressed firmly against his bare chest.

Remy refused to take no for an answer and before Rogue knew what was happening she was swept up in his arms, strong and secure as he rushed her to the bathroom. She wished she had the strength to beat her fists against him but her head was swimming within the depths of a black hole, clawing to stay conscious.

Her vision began to go in and out and the burning within her seemed to amplify to ridiculous portions despite the fact that her skin felt like ice.

She saw his face. Black. His eyes. Black. The white tile. Black. She felt something smooth. Black. The heat of skin gone. Black. Moisture welling up on her skin. Black. Eyes. Black. A simple caress. Black. A rush of water. Black.

Nothingness, frozen over and blue took over her, the tingle in her fingertips spreading beyond to her limbs and torso, overtaking her body. The last thing she remembered before the icy pool was a voice, velvety bass.

"Don't y' dare!"

Remy had carried her to the tub, dumped her, fully clothed into the marble and let the spray of hot water permeate her. He had seen this before. He knew what this was. And it horrified him. He knew what this meant. But the question was, was he prepared. It was his job to be, but did that mean he truly was?

He yanked the clothing from her skin, allowing the warmth to radiate through her. She was far too cold. The fear ran through him and he knew that this was wrong. This wasn't supposed to be happening. If only they hadn't ever met. If only he had kept to himself instead of forcing himself into her life; maybe this wouldn't be happening.

He watched as her body convulsed with tremors, and her eyes began to roll into the back of her head. This wasn't supposed to be happening. He should've known when she told him. Should have taken precautions. It was time for a change of plans.

Remy rushed into the other room, his heart beating outside of his chest as he searched through his pockets and found his phone dialing the number he had made himself memorize. This had better work or everything would be lost. He didn't care as long as she was saved.

The phone rang and rang and Remy was beside himself with anger and fear and worry as he gazed down on Rogue's nude form, her limbs contorted with pain, her skin grey and freezing. The water had warmed her up a bit but he knew the burning was sending agony shooting through her veins.

Finally someone answered. "This is Worthington Industries Pharmaceutical Research and Laboratory Facilities. Our corporate hours are from-"

"Come de fuck on!" Remy yelled at the phone as he pulled the showerhead from the socket and focused its spray Rogue's chest and face, keeping her head from icing over was the most important thing.

"For questions or appointments about remission from the mutant Cure please press 5," the automated voice spoke in an almost sadistically slow and unemotional fashion. "Please wait a moment while the next available representative is contacted."

Remy put the phone down for a moment as he began to do what he had promised himself he wouldn't risk doing again, but he wouldn't lose her. Couldn't have another dead body on his hands or his conscious, let alone this one.

His finger ran across Rogue's frozen skin as he felt the small trickle of energy leave his fingers and seep down into the tissues of her muscle, the skin glowing a light fuchsia, tinged with the magenta hue. He held the charge only for a moment, letting the heat from the bio-kinetic energy warm her body at the cellular level, watching as the blood began to flow into her tender sinews.

With finesse and great care Remy pulled the charge back in. He hadn't done that without killing someone, but he was past desperate and he wasn't willing to gamble with her life. Rogue's breathing began to stabilize and he watched as her skin grew rosy with genuine heat.

He picked the phone back up, moving the nozzle of the showerhead over every inch of her skin.

"Hello my name is Gregory. How may I help you today?" the unenthused representative annunciated into his headset.

"I need y' ta get a fuckin' medical team over here now d'accord Gregory. My wife is experiencing an Ignis et Glacies remission reaction," Remy forcefully declared into the phone as he kept running the water over Rogue's body.

The representative made a gurgling noise that Remy assumed to be him going into shock as he began to type quickly on his computer screen. "Alright sir, first are you keeping her under constant heat?"

Gambit growled audibly. "Are y' fuckin' kiddin' moi. Of co'se I am y' enfoncer bâtard!"

"Sir there is no need to be hostile. If you'll just give me your address and the nature of your wife's mutation we'll send a medical team that is within in your vicinity to the address within the next ten to twenty minutes," Gregory responded calmly.

"We're at 2427 Shadowridge Road," Gambit bit back at the representative testing the water once more with his hands, checking the condition of Rogue's skin as it began to heat up uncontrollably.

He could hear the click clack of Greogry typing something on his computer and then it stopped.

"And the nature of her mutation sir?" he asked almost rudely.

Fuck. He didn't know her mutation. There was no file at the guild that had given him that information and with Logan he was lucky if he could get a few glimpses at Rogue's past without being skewered via a telephone line.

"I don't know," Gambit's voice took on an almost saddened, defeated tone.

Gregory hit some more keys.

"Do you know if her condition could have been seen as hostile in a non-mutant environment?" his words were cold and calculated and it took every ounce of restraint in him for Gambit not to throw the phone through the wall.

"What de fuck does dat have ta do wit dis? My wife is dyin' get y' people over here ta help her or so help moi Dieu I will gut y' like de lifeless piece of merde y' are y' batard!" Gambit growled feeling Rogue's skin as it flushed redder and redder with every second that passed.

"Sir please calm down. The medical team in enroute as we speak but I will need to know if your wife has a condition that will make it difficult to treat her in any way so as to keep our medical staff from experiencing any adverse effects," Gregory explained in that I'm really reading off of a memo tone and Gambit swore he was going to blow the whole building once Rogue was fine.

"Look y' people are responsible fo' mon wife's current condition. Assume dat she does have dis sort of condition d'accord and get y' filthy money hungry asses over here and fix what y' fuckin' broke!"

Gregory was silent for a moment and then seemed to shuffle through some papers. "You said your wife was experiencing an Ignis et Glacies reaction, correct?"

"Do y' have a problem hearin' too boy?" Gambit yelled into the receiver.

The water was starting to run cold and he had to urge himself to stay in control if not just for the moment. If he was unable to concentrate this next feat could kill Rogue and himself as well. It wasn't as risky as charging her tissues but it was still risky.

"No sir I do not. Has your wife gone through the cooling phase?" Gregory asked as he scoured more and more paperwork.

"Oui," responded idly as he began to prepare himself for what needed to be done.

Gambit held one hand in the water and let the rest of the world grow quiet. He closed his eyes and felt the energy pulsing through his limbs, felt the charge of the particles around him. He let the energy spread out from his fingertips and focused it solely on the one thing he wanted to charge, focused on the water and the slippery slide of the molecules as the heated up at his whim. He pulled the charge back without an explosion and a sigh of relief washed over him.

"Sir!...Sir!...Are you there!" Gregory yelled into the phone, worried that he indeed had caused someone harm.

"Oui…Oui I'm here," Gambit stated calmly, or as calmly as he could given the situation.

"Sir you need to keep her body at a high temperature until she begins to convulse again. If that happens before the medical team arrives you will need to reverse tactics and find a way to keep her body cool. Do you understand?" Gregory stated in an almost patronizing air.

"Tell moi somet'in I don't know!" Gambit stated.

His hand was slowly caressing Rogue's face, brushing her wet lockes of chestnut aside as he felt the cold air of her body. She was warm. Warmer than she had been but still extremely cold. He pulled the showerhead once again to her head and watched as the water cascaded down her face.

He was lost in the moment. This was never supposed to happen. But then again they were never supposed to happen. He couldn't have it end like this. Not when there was still so much to be said, so much to be done between them.

He wanted to say that this wasn't what he really felt; that those things were just concern for someone he had spent a great deal of time with over the past couple of weeks. He knew that that wasn't it. He wasn't scared to feel it anymore, he was scared because it led to this.

His fingers stroked her face, her chest heaved with breath, and in that tub he saw the two women he had felt more for than any others in his life.

There was a rush at the door and he heard it being broken down, he heard hurried footsteps and calls but he was too busy at the moment staring at her angelic face contorted with pain. There were hands on him and he pushed back not out of anger but out of need.

"I love y'"


	12. Who Am I?

**A/N: Yes I know too many cliff hangers but I can't help it, I live for suspense. I am so happy that you guys didn't fall off the face of the earth when it came to this story and are still totally invested. Given that I will promise to update as much as possible until this story is finished! Please read and review and tell me if I suck or you thoroughly enjoyed it because I honestly want to know.**

**Chapter 13 will also be up today so keep an eye out for that as well.**

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><p>Chapter 12- Who Am I?<p>

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><p>"<em>When you're mad, mad like this, you don't know it"<em>

_Marya Hornbacher_

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><p>There was a reason Remy Lebeau hated hospitals. More than a few actually. But when he set foot inside Worthington Labs it was like he was revisiting all of his worst memories, reliving the darkest days of his life.<p>

It had been four hours. There was supposedly little that they could do. With extreme cases of mutation, which they had classified Rogue as, as a precaution, they couldn't treat the mutant directly. Despite the fact that he had the staff convinced he was Rogue's husband he was denied access to her. He was told it was because her condition was too dire and until they could stabilize her he would not be able to see her. Guilt began to flood his limbs.

Remy sat in the small hallway outside of the trauma wing in the lab. He was the only person to be sitting in the waiting area. It didn't surprise him. It's not like a lot of mutants had families, not ones that cared anyways. He thought about how lucky he was to have a family who truly loved him no matter their differences.

His hands were crossed in front of his mouth, the weight of his arms leaning against his knees. He had managed to grab a shirt and some jeans in the rush of bodies on their way out from the guild villa. He was shaking nervously; his legs fidgeting so much that his whole body moved.

The memory made its way into his head. If he couldn't help her, if they couldn't save her, he would never forgive himself. How could he have been so stupid? She had only told him that she had taken the Cure. He should have known better, should have taken precautions. Hadn't the past taught him anything?

He thought back to that young pink haired girl. He had done wrong by her on more than one occasion, had owed her a debt and how did he repay her, by giving her what he thought she wanted. It had killed her.

Remy's jaw clenched of its own accord and he shut his eyes against the harsh fluorescent lights. There was too much in his life he regretted. But he didn't regret meeting either of them. They had somehow become a part of him. But he couldn't lose Rogue, couldn't lose her like he lost the other. He wouldn't let it happen. Not when he could finally admit that he cared for her more than any other human being he'd ever encountered in his life.

"Mr. Dubois…Mr. Dubois?"

Remy's eyes snapped open and he stared back at the doctor now standing in front of him. He sat up at first before standing before the short, older man with horn-rimmed glasses and a weary face beset with wrinkles.

"Mr. Dubois, I'm Dr. Browning," the doctor gave Remy his hand to shake and he did so lightly.

"Oui…Oui…How's she doin'?" Remy asked exasperatedly, his arms crossed, the strain of worry legible in his features as he bent down to address the doctor.

The doctor looked down at his chart and flipped a few pages back and forth, he tsked to himself before looking back up at Remy, adjusting his glasses with greasy fingers. He licked his lips, taking a deep breath.

"Mr. Dubois, we found records of your wife in our system so thankfully we were able to identify her mutation and work around it to the best of our ability," he paused for a moment as Remy nodded his head.

"Dat's good news, non?" Remy interrupted slightly.

The doctor tilted his head and looked down at his charts once more before looking back up at Remy.

"Well, the nature of her mutation is quite tricky. She seems to absorb, in essence, the life of those she has skin on skin contact with. Now since you were able to identify the Ignis et Glacies reaction quite quickly we were able to treat her symptoms rapidly; however her recovery is another thing entirely," the doctor stated, his hands moving to his sides as he spoke.

"Quoi do y' mean?" Remy questioned. None of this made sense.

"It means that since we are no longer able to administer the mutant Cure legally, her remission may be permanent and the effect it's having on her body is quite drastic. She is not slowly recovering her mutation; it is an almost instantaneous process which has thrown her body, for lack of a better term, out of kilter."

Remy let out a frustrated growl. "Give moi a straight answer, doctor."

The doctor took a deep breath. "There is little we can do for her at this facility besides treat the small symptoms she has."

"What other facility is there?"

The doctor was thrown off guard and raised his eyebrows, sweat working up at the corners of his forehead. "There are no other facilities."

Gambit chuckled and in an instant the doctor was thrown clear against the wall, pinned up to Gambit's height by his lab coat. Why was it that people always thought they could hide lies? Their body language, their slips of the tongue. Didn't they know it was enough for a trained eye to find?

"Wrong, y' said dat y' couldn't treat her at _dis_ facility. Meaning dere is another. Let me make dis clear doctor, I will do anyt'ing in de world ta make sure dat woman lives, _anyt'ing_," Remy gritted out staring dead into the doctor's cold, calculating eyes, his scarlet irises bursting and flaming. The doctor let out a small squeal.

"It's a testing facility. We're not supposed to mention it unless we…unless we…"

"Unless y' what?" Remy slammed him up against the wall once more.

"Unless we can secure a monetary deposit. An ample monetary deposit."

Remy's grip slid from the doctor's lab coat and the little man fell to the floor with a light thud as Remy brushed off his shirt, rearranging his clothes. A slight smile came to his face. These things were always so simple.

"Well den doctor y' be in fo' a treat. Name de price, 'cause lets jus' say us Dubois' have more dan enough ta go around," Remy stated giving the doctor a hand as he stood up and glared at Remy.

Remy shot the doctor a warning look, his demon eyes blazing for a moment and the doctor shot into the wall, his hands gripping the slick building his lips quivering.

"If y-you'll f-follow Mr. Dubois, we'll f-find you a representative from th-the facility. It's just this way," the doctor said, his voice cracking every so often.

He gestured to the hallway to their right and Remy tilted his head agreement and made his way down the small hall. The tiny doctor followed closely behind adjusting his collar as he went. Remy chuckled as he heard the slight gulps from behind him every so often.

* * *

><p>Rogue was in a desolate wasteland. She had been here before. No not her someone else. Someone she knew. Someone she had become.<p>

The landscape in front of her changed. It was raining and bleak. There were dozens, hundreds of people being herded into a metal container like cattle. She screamed for help, screamed for her mother. Men rushed towards her and she felt the gate in her fingertips, felt the metal move.

She fell into the mud, into the steady streaming water and anger filled her heart and she gritted her teeth and felt the slow tingling ebb of the metal around her, felt the connection grow stronger as the gate bent towards her and then the world around her went black.

No, this wasn't her, this wasn't who she was. She was running through a forest. The smell of pines and snow littered the ground and something more animal, a tinge of blood. She looked about her, her nostrils flaring as she took in each and every scent around her. The sap, the fresh greenery and cold crisp air, the rust of blood, blood that was dripping from her.

She looked down at her hands to see the metal protrusions. Staring at the glint of the metal in the dim light of that filtered down from the trees she realized she was nude and seething with fury and pain, extreme pain that was slowly receding with each beat of her heart. She was confused and didn't know what was happening around her until her ears pricked up at the sound of a sudden crunch of twigs in the distance.

She squatted low, baring her teeth in feral fashion as she leapt towards a man bedecked in white camouflage slicing his weapon to smithereens as her vision fogged over red and she was lost in the blood lust. Everything was gone

Once again she found herself gone this time she was back in Mississippi, she was watching a young chestnut haired girl bath in the river, the sunlight sparkling in her hair and on her skin. She felt the swell of love and the distinct trickle of lust run through her veins at the sight of the girl.

The girl's back was towards her and when she finally turned around and the girl gazed on with the brightest emerald green eyes. She walked forward into the water to join her, her hands outstretched in the water as her arms wrapped around the girl in a loving embrace and the two were lost beneath rushing water.

What was happening? Who was she? Where was she? There was too much, had she been here before, in this desolate wasteland? Somehow she kept coming back here to this place. In between each episode she was here. On this cracked earth looking for all the world like a mental patient at Bedlam. Rogue looked about her and finally saw the one thing she wished she would never see again in her life, the one thing that made her aware of where she was and what had happened to her.

In the middle of the rough land, ravaged by darkness and arid heat, stood a tree with roots deep set into the dry dirt. The tree was dead or dying for on the mostly bare and long branches that hung like claws in the tempestuous sky. Among each branch there ebbed a single stream of a solid color and the stream flowed into the roots, pictures and memories lost in the rush of fluid. She watched the stream join into a tributary and the fluid grow dark and black as each color joined at the tree's base, gazed as the faces blurred into one and the branches sagged and cracked under the weight.

"No! No!" she screamed to herself. "Ah can't be here. Ah just can't"

Her hands wrapped tightly around her wrists as she fell to her knees before the dying tree.

"Help meh! Please…help me!" she cried as a flash of lightening crashed down beside her and a deafening roar of thunder ripped through the plane.

* * *

><p>It took half a million dollars, seven hours, a short drive and a night without sleep for Remy to secure Rogue's place at the clinical remission center for high paying clients at the unknown mutant cure division of Worthington Labs. He once again sat in a much smaller, much more intimate waiting room that posed as a hospital room where Rogue laid on a medical bed various wires running from her arms and a plastic bubble like structure wrapped around her.<p>

No one was allowed to touch her, not even Remy. The conditions of the contract he signed in order for her to gain admittance dictated that he would only be allowed to sit in this tiny room with her if he let the doctors, lab technicians as they preferred to be called do what they pleased and did not fight them on what they felt was best for their team and for the patient, i.e. the plastic bubble with arm holes that made Remy feel like Rogue was some sort of dangerous bacteria in a Petri dish rather than a human being.

He had been watching her lifeless body for hours only convinced that she was alive by the steadily beating monitors she was attached to. Her eyelids were closed and dark and purple as if she had been hit repeatedly in the eye. Her hair was matted and discolored, sticking to the now yellow tinged skin at her forehead and cheeks. She looked like she was dying and Remy couldn't help but feel responsible, responsible for every horrible thing that had happened to her.

The doctors had told him that it would be difficult to bring her back from the remission, her Ignis et Glacies reaction had wracked her body so severely that it catapulted her back into her mutation without hold and the nature of her mutation made it almost impossible for the medical team to run tests on her. Because she was such a difficult case and her body had experienced such great trauma the medical team decided it was in her best interest to put her into a medically induced coma. So Remy waited as they devised way after way to combat her mutation and think of new ways to administer the mutant cure to her.

Remy assured them money was no object and despite the amounts he had transferred to the facility the guild had no knowledge of what was taking place. All the money Remy spent came from his own bank account and he was unsure of what he would tell his father and brother if they did call. How was he supposed to tell them that this job had taken a turn for the worse and he was unable to extricate himself from it because of his conflicting feelings for a contact? For a contact that he had been physically entangling himself with for the past month no less.

Rule number two of the guild: never let anything compromise you or your job. How many times had he broken the rule? How many times had he the Prince of Thieves been scolded by his father, by his brother about compromising himself? He looked back and realized it wasn't worth it. All those times he had blatantly given himself away and this was the only time it meant something and he was unable to voice it.

She was the only one who was worth it. She was dying because of his idiocy, because of the feelings he couldn't admit to himself and wouldn't allow himself to detach from the professional situation they had put themselves into.

He watched her, the slow rise and fall of her chest. He tried to focus on that simple movement and not stare at how her body had been ravaged by her own mutation; how her skin held blisters from its own severe heat or how her fingers and toes had been at the edge of frostbite. He clenched his jaw. He needed her to come back from this. Her death would be the tipping point. Too many. Too long. Even for the Prince of Thieves. Even for Le Diable Blanc.

He waited by her side, waited for something to happen. Hoped that maybe any second her eyes would snap open and she gasp a breath without the breathing tube snaked down her throat. He waited for her to come back to him, he waited and hoped and even prayed but what God would listen to a demon eyed thief? What God would listen to a devil?

* * *

><p>She was in a parking lot. It was night and the lights around her were too dim to see anything. She leaned against a truck, huddling away from the cold trying to warm up against the heat being expelled from the exhaust pipe.<p>

She pulled her jean jacket around her tighter as the night air nipped at the skin around her face. She heard the crack of gravel as shoes made contact with the pavement. For a moment she tensed as the movement came closer and closer to her. She couldn't see the person but could make out a silhouette in the distance.

There was a glowing ember, a cigarette that lit the silhouette minimally. The man approached until he was right against her. He was yelling, threatening and then his fist made contact with her face and pain rushed through her veins and she was screaming, screaming but being unheard. And suddenly without any help, with a simple thought the ember spurted into waves of flames engulfing the man as he rolled on the floor and they grew larger and larger forming into great big dogs lapping and gnawing at him.

She watched and cried before running. The scene dissipated.

"STOP IT! PLEASE…Stop….just stop!" she begged to the storm striking lightning before her, always getting close to the tree but never hitting it directly, just smoldering the soil surrounding it. She glared at the steam emitted from each strike as sobs wracked her body over and over again.

"Help meh! Someone please help meh!" she screamed to the wasteland, to the humid air, to the striking lightning and rumbling thunder.

But no one came; there was no one to come, to help her. Not here. She knew that, but it didn't stop her expulsions of desperation. She fell once again to her knees, crumpling in on herself, cradling her limbs to the center of her body as she rocked backward and forward waiting for the next episode to take place, waiting for the next nightmare to wrack her body and send her into fits of mental shock. Her tears ran down her cheeks finding contact with the brunt, charred soil and she listened as it sizzled from the moisture.

There was nothing left to help her. No one left. Nothing near. She closed her eyes and prayed for death.

"What are you doing crying?"

Rogue's eyes snapped open. Where she had just been staring at burnt soil now stood a pair of perfect milky white feet.

"You're not gonna get out of here with an attitude like that I can tell you that right now."

Rogue stared. Surely she was looking at a ghost. But then again she was sitting in her own personal hell. Well not really personal, her hell was the hell of others, but the hell only she could experience, the memories that weren't hers surely didn't plague their owners the way they plagued her, the way they held her down. No, this was her hell, just adorned with the worst anyone else she had ever touched in her life ever experienced.

"Well are you going to sit there and stare or are we going to find a way to get you out of here so you can finish what you started out there?"

Rogue shook her head. What was the worst she could do? Attempting escape was better than sitting in the vile, filth this place had to offer. The tree ebbed and spewed as the fluid at the roots grew darker and darker with each passing second, slowly running upward towards the branches, its tentacles attempting to grasp every living part of the tree, setting its sights on the one pristine part at the apex: a single blood red bud, not yet blooming but threatening to at any moment.

She stared at the tree and then turned her attention back to the phantom. She was just as beautiful as Rogue remembered her in life, so long ago; she had lived so long ago. Her sleek blond locks cascading down her shoulders, her sparkling blue eyes piercing Rogue's very soul. She held out her delicate hand to Rogue. Standing up level with the apparition Rogue took the warm flesh in her hand and choked back tears.

"Don't get all sentimental now, we've got plenty of work to do girlie," the ghost smiled warmly pulling Rogue to her side as they started to walk away from the tree.


	13. Ghosts of the Past

_**A/N: Here's the other update I promised. Not quite a cliff hanger but close enough in my book. Anyways please read and enjoy hopefully. Thanks! :)**_

* * *

><p>Chapter 13- Ghosts of the Past<p>

* * *

><p><em>The ghosts of the past will always come back to haunt you<em>

* * *

><p>"Where is it that we're goin'?" Rogue asked.<p>

It seemed like they had been walking for hours, just taking on the horizon line but never being able to reach what was just beyond, what looked to be within their grasp.

Carol shrugged. "Guess that all depends on you kiddo. I mean if you really want to get out of here you're going to need to figure out what you need to fix. I mean every mutant has to learn control, I did, Logan did, Magneto did. You're no different. The only challenge is this place."

Rogue stared at the beautiful woman before her. Was this really what she needed to do? Gain control to finally free herself from this place, this realm where only her demons, only those she had taken life from could stalk her, could be the predators that knew her every waking thought.

"So this is how Ah learn control, in mah head?" Rogue asked skeptically.

Carol chuckled lightly pulling her arm around Rogue as they stepped further and further away from the tree and closer and closer to the dark clouds roaming the skyline.

"Think of it as psychic training. All this is is learning how to put those thoughts of yours to use, to control the people who aren't you, and stop yourself from letting them get the better of you. Learn how to be Rogue, _just_ Rogue no one else," Carol dipped her head into Rogue's, their foreheads touching.

"But that means…that….no please…please tell me that this doesn't mean," Rogue whimper.

Carol turned her body in front of Rogue's pressing her hands onto the worried girl's shoulders and staring dead into her eyes glistening with fresh tears. Rogue stared at the shocking blue of Carol's eyes and was once again overcome with the guilt. This is what she had done. She had killed this woman and she would never escape it because Carol lived within her, would always live within her, to remind her of the ungodly acts she had committed.

"Sh-sh-sh," Carol soothed. "Yes Rogue, that means you've got your powers back."

She paused running her hands up to Rogue's face and holding it gently up for examination. Rogue's emerald eyes shone with such pain and hurt and utter longing, desperation for some other answer, anything other than the words she had just told this young innocent girl.

"But that is why we're here now, why we're using this time while we can. You need this Rogue, this is who you are," Carol spoke adamantly.

Rogue felt her body as it became weighed down. She couldn't go back to that place. To the dark depths of this psychic plane that would haunt her dreams and keep her from all the things she needed in her life, keep her from the pain, keep her from the pleasure, keep her from both of _them_.

"Ah…Ah killed you Carol. Ah killed ya after three minutes. Ah don't want to go back to that. Ah don't want to have anymore blood on my hands. I'd rather be-"

"Dead. Is that what you want to be Rogue?" Carol's voice boomed and the ground shook.

Rogue looked about her in horror as she felt the blonde's grip tighten on her arms and her sparkling blue irises become clouded with electricity.

"Because that's what you are. Without this, this is part of you. Being normal for you isn't being human, its punishment, it's your way of atoning for things that were never your fault. You are not a killer Rogue, the things you did; the supposed crimes you committed were not for some sick sadistic need, a blood lust. You hurt those close to you because you were young and naïve and this world made you feel like you were nothing better than a demon. You are not going back to that, I won't let you.

"You are no longer a child Rogue, it's time to grow up and be the woman I know you can be, the woman I know you to be: a powerful mutant who is in control of not just her abilities but her life," Carol reached for Rogue's hand and she watched as the world around her quieted, the dry dirt beneath her feet stop shaking, the anger in her friend's eyes fade but a storm did still rage on, in the distance the clouds still gathered.

"And as for me Rogue, don't feel sorry; don't pity me in my death. I lived a full life. I loved and lived and fought for the things I believed in. I saved lives and protected those who needed shelter from those who wished only to harm. I didn't live in vain and I am sure as hell not going to die in vain. So let's get a move on because this is my way of telling you, even in death I can kick your puny little ass," Carol consoled as both her and Rogue smiled at her last comment.

They took steps forward and Rogue watched as the dry dirt beneath her feet slowly shifted into lush grass, and the clouds dissipated into rays of sunlight and from the strikes of lightening burst large trees melding over a muddy brown river.

"Is this where we start?" Rogue asked her hand still gripping Carol's tightly.

"Seems like it," Carol said turning to Rogue. "Ready?"

Rogue nodded, talking a deep breath and closing her eyes for a moment letting the warm humid air around her seep into her skin and sunlight radiate on her.

"As ready as Ah'll ever be," Rogue whispered to the air around her.

* * *

><p>No change. Nothing was changing and with each passing hour Remy was becoming more and more distraught. The signals remained the same, the prognosis, the treatment. How could they expect her to come back from this if there was nothing happening on either end? Surely something needed to change. He was slowly driving himself insane.<p>

What was it that scared him the most? He must have asked himself this question a thousand times since he got to this place, since he knew in his heart that something was wrong but the answer while he knew it, had yet to reveal itself fully. There was so much he was supposed to fear, but there was only one thing he did fear: losing her.

The Guild, Logan and the X-Men, getting caught in this heist, the facility being shut down, any number of things but the one that was steady throughout all the noise, all the background chatter and anxious nagging of his thoughts was the one thing that tugged on his whole body, that tore him apart from the inside out. Rogue dying; Rogue dying because he was stupid enough to bring her here with him, stupid enough to fall in love with her.

It had been two days since she was admitted. Two days and no change. She was stubborn; he knew that but how long could he convince the doctors that she needed treatment, that she needed to be here before they threw them out? How did he convince people who didn't know her that she was stubborn as a mule?

Her vitals were still strong but her brain waves where uncharacteristically high, a sign to the medical team that something was wrong. Remy didn't know what was going on, or what to do. Should he call the Guild, tell them that the job was going horribly, horribly wrong? Should he call Logan and the others and tell them how much trouble he had gotten Rogue into? Should he sit and wait for this damn medical team to heal her? Should he say goodbye?

He sat at her bedside, holding her hand in his, incased in that damn bubble as she was. It was ridiculous and unnecessary and all he wanted to do in that moment was touch her bare skin, to feel the reassurance of that silken encasement that she was there, that she was coming back to him, for him if not for everyone else who loved her.

As he held her hand through the plastic he began to cry. He had never loved anyone, had never shown weakness to anyone and here he was about to lose someone he barely knew, someone who could give a damn about him and he was bawling like a woman and he hated himself for it. He needed to break her, needed to get into her mind and see how she ticked and that's all this ever was supposed to be but that's not how things turned out. He was invested like only once before. A green-eyed goddess and a pink-haired cherub. They were the same, but would they meet the same end?

Sarah. The only thing that made him want to be good if only to teach a young girl that such things existed in this horrendous universe. She didn't trust him, but that didn't stop him from saving her. In all rightness she was correct in not trusting him, he was the reason she and all of her family, The Morlocks, had ended up dead or half-dead. She was his guilt incarnate and he found retribution in attempting to make good on her life.

He took her in, raised her as his own and when she begged him, pleaded with him to get the Cure how could he deny her. How could he deny someone whom he owed a life to? What teenage girl would not have wished to have the hopes of being beautiful one day and despite his aims at making her rethink the decision he allowed her to do what she wanted because he only wanted her to be happy. Sarah. Not the first female to leave a permanent mark on him but she had been the deepest scar, until now.

He had been angry and young and reckless, but he would no longer take for granted what was right in front of him. He would no longer deny himself what he knew they both needed. He only hoped that she could forgive him once he made this decision, he only hoped that when she came back it would be to him. He allowed himself this selfish dream because he was scared of what the alternative to it was.

"Mon ami we need ta talk."

* * *

><p>Rogue stepped into the muddy water. The light sparkling on her skin as she waded forward through the thick liquid. Her eyes were closed and she knew inherently where she was. She had been here many a time before. This was the place she had taken her first life. The very spot she had first let herself go unwillingly, the first time she had given her heart away. If only she had known she would never be relieved of the pain of losing it.<p>

"This is his memory, Rogue, not yours," Carol whispered to her. Rogue's eyes were still shut against the world.

"Ah don't know how Ah'm gonna do this Carol. How do Ah fix it?"

"You make peace," she stated wisely.

"With who?" Rogue breathed tensely.

"With yourself."

Rogue opened her eyes to see in front of her Cody Robbins. His blond hair glistening in the sunlight, his blue eyes no longer icy and cold, but full of that earnestness, that bright laughter he always had. He was just a boy; the boy she had loved and hurt. Rogue immediately fell to her knees, tears clouding her vision as she looked on at the sight of Cody basked in the green-golden sunlight filtering in through the trees and down onto the piece of river they had called home for years.

She clasped her eyes shut, not letting anything but darkness near her sight. She whimpered to the ghost of her past. "Ah'm sorry, so sorry Cody."

She felt his hand on hers, felt the soft touch of skin on skin and the light musky breeze of Mississippi air, smelt the moisture as it passed over her. She could feel his body lingering in front of her face and his hands at her cheeks. She lifted an eyelid to see him smiling down at her. Not in the way she had come to know, no this was his original smile, the one that had sent her soaring at the age of thirteen.

"Marie, we're wastin' all this daylight jus' sittin' here. Come on we best get started," he whispered to her lovingly.

"But Cody…Ah…Ah…"she couldn't form the words.

"Ah know what happens Marie, doesn't mean Ah can change it. Doesn't mean Ah don't still love ya, ya're mah best friend," Cody said as he held his hand out for her to take.

Rogue was confused. If this was Cody's psyche then why was he being so caring, so gentle with her? He hated her now, couldn't stand her unless he was taking advantage of her or causing her pain, the pain he had suffered at her hands. Why was he being the sweet boy she knew him to be when he was thirteen on this day, in the Mississippi sun?

"But…."Rogue questioned.

Cody gazed at her inquisitively, his blue eyes yielding and fluid, like water, pure liquid not even close to the icebergs she knew them to be now. The pliant and subtle mesh that he was, she remembered how she could always convince Cody to do all sorts of delinquent acts and his blue eyes would never change from that river blue, constant and yielding, even more so than the muddy one they stood in.

"No buts Marie we have ta get on with this day so ya can learn what we need ya ta learn. What ya couldn't learn while we were away," Cody spoke and Rogue was overcome by his words.

What was going on? Who was she? She needed answers that no one was giving her.

"Think Rogue…think," Carol whispered in her ear.

"It's not possible," Rogue assured herself.

"Anything's possible rememba, ya told me that. Anything's possible here. We need ta hurry Marie, no time ta waste," Cody pressed as he took her hand and lead her down the stream and out of sight from Carol.

* * *

><p>It didn't take but three hours in the X-Jet for Logan to arrive at the facility based out of Silicon Valley but to Remy it felt like it had been days. Their conversation had not been a happy one and when Remy had said he was going to take care of Rogue and make sure no harm came to her Logan took it as a promise that something like this would eventually happen.<p>

"The good for nothin' thief!" Logan had yelled as he slammed the phone into the table crushing it with the weight of his adamantium laced hand.

"Logan, please calm down, there are more pressing matters at hand here," Ororo, the voice of reason as always, intervened.

"No, 'Ro, I will not calm down. He- She- Rogue's- -She's in trouble damnit and he's the cause of it!" Logan growled at her from across the War Room.

"You're lucky he called you at all, Logan. We had already decided that Rogue was going to live her own life and that if Remy Lebeau was involved she would have adequate protection-

"But that's just it Ororo she obviously hasn't, we need to bring Stripes home, now!"

"She doesn't want to come home Logan," Jubilee piped up.

Logan turned to the background where, standing against the wall were all of Rogue's former classmates. The new crop of X-Men had yet to challenge Logan on anything, not counting Jubilee but she had more pull than them with the clawed feral.

"Firecracker, don't start," Logan warned her as he stuck his finger near her angrily pointing.

Kitty moved forward to take a stand beside Ororo, "But face it Logan she doesn't. If we go, we go to make sure she's getting proper treatment but not to change her mind. We all make choices and Rogue made hers a long time ago. If she wants to come back that's her prerogative but we all know she doesn't want to."

"Half-pint what do you know about what Stripes does and doesn't want, hmmm. I'm tired of this bullshit, I'm leaving for the facility, tell bird boy to give me all the details about this facility his ol pa is financing and send them to the Blackbird," he began walking out of the room, every pair of eyes following him as he stood for a moment in the doorway. "Anyone is welcome to join me, but ya're not going to change my mind. I'm going to bring her home, kicking and screaming if I have to."

"She's just going to run away again," Bobby muttered under his breath.

Everyone heard him, especially Logan with his heightened senses and while it stopped him for a moment, made him reconsider what he was going to do, he still left the group jarred about the whereabouts of their former friend and comrade in arms.

They met in the waiting room, Remy had made up a story about him being Rogue's father and thankfully had explained to Logan prior the terms of his call and that this was in fact a job. That didn't make Wolverine any happier.

Remy went into detail about what each doctor had told him, how she had been stabilized but there was little they could do in regards to her mutation, her body was rejecting every form of the Cure they introduced into her system. The reaction she had that signaled her remission had also caused her body so much damage that they had to put her into a medically induced coma.

Logan sat beside Rogue as Remy lounged across the windowsill seat of the room. Logan stared down at Rogue, the girl he had saved, for all intents and purposes the daughter he never had. She put up with him in ways most people didn't and was never one to let him get to her. And here she was in a coma, with all sorts of wires and tubes coming out of her body, slowly deteriorating on a piece of cotton.

"You can leave now, Gambit. There's no need for you anymore, I'm here and I'm not leaving," Logan growled still looking at Rogue.

"Y' be insane if y' t'ink I'm leavin' dat dere femme alone wit y'," Remy responded half heartedly. He was exhausted, how long had it been since he'd gotten sleep?

"It's your fault she's in this mess or haven't you noticed that, _Dubois_," Logan snarled, sharply turning around to face Gambit.

"I know," he let out with a breath.

His head was leaning against the wall, one leg pressed up near his chest, the other straight on the windowsill. The man looked broken. His eyes held a purple pallor around them from many sleepless nights, his stubble was going on a full grown beard, his hair was greasy and unkempt. He looked weary and for the first time since Logan had met him all those years ago, the boy showed his age.

Logan glared at Remy; there was no denying what he saw there written in his face. The one sign he knew to be true, those devil eyes of his were losing the luster, the bright shining flame they always had before was slowly being extinguished. Logan quickly turned back around and let out growl through clenched teeth.

With his jaw still clenched, Logan let the next words fall from his mouth, "I never thought I would see the day when _you_ would look your age, _old friend_."

Remy let out the most desperate, strangled half-laugh Logan had ever heard in his life. He turned to look at the man only to see tears in his eyes and his fists clenched, staring out of the window with the saddest attempt at his once famous grin.

"I would say de same t'ing about y' but dat day has yet ta come," Remy responded.

Logan sought the words he knew he had no power to say. If him and Remy really were friends it was in the right that neither man would bullshit the other and so Logan felt he owed his Cajun connection the little hope he could give him, not bullshit but the truth. And even as the words came from Logan he could not believe he was sitting there reassuring Remy Lebeau that everything would be alright when two minutes prior he was ready to tear him to shreds, literally.

"She's a fighter, always has been. Through everything she's the one constant; I know she's gonna make it 'cause she always does," Logan said taking a deep breath and running his hands down his face.

"But that don't mean it ain't gonna be a fight 'cause it is. It's gonna be one hell of a fight," he said pointing a finger at Remy.

The two attempted to chuckle but the raspy discord of their breath made nothing but subtle grunts and then there was silence between the two men. The father figure and the almost lover.


	14. The Tree of Life and Death

_**A/N: Another update for my faithful fans, thank you so much for keeping up with this story even through its dry periods. For those of you who are worried about Rogue's powers don't be, I would not be so sadistic as to give them back and make her not be in control. How would her and Remy have any fun? ;) Also be looking forward to a lot more angst between Rogue and Remy, just because she may solve her control problems doesn't mean she's solved her own problems or he his own, as per usual there will be loads of time before they actually have their happily ever after, but good things come to those who wait. Enjoy and read and review por favor! Muchas Gracias! :D**_

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><p>Chapter 14- The Tree of Life and Death<p>

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><p>Death is simple, Life is complicated, the two can never be joined.<p>

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><p>Logan was pacing outside of the hospital room yelling into his cell phone. Remy was trying desperately not to pay attention to the things he was screaming into the receiver of that phone but being a thief didn't make attempting to not hear conversations any easier.<p>

Logan had been at the facility all of half a day before he believed that Rogue should be transferred to the mansion and looked at by Hank McCoy, the resident physician at Xavier's and a fellow mutant. Given the information that Logan had received from a contact (one that he would not reveal) he was under the assumption that the facility was in fact a fraud and little was done to help mutants that had adverse reactions to the Cure, instead they were used as guinea pigs to research more remission resistant forms of the Cure.

Remy didn't know if this was true or not. Yes, there had been little done to help Rogue in her current state and he was funding the research lab a vast amount of money for their help healing her but progress, however little, had been made. She wasn't dead, he had been telling himself.

His friend was skeptical however. It was hard enough, he believed, to take the word of people trying to find a way to get rid of the 'mutant problem' and now he was putting the life of one of his own in the crosshairs, Logan wouldn't have it.

But Remy was resistant. If Rogue went back to the mansion who was to say she would get better? And how was he just supposed to take Logan on the word of someone he didn't know? Remy was anything if not unconvinced of Logan's supposed contact's information. While Remy knew he could trust Logan he was unsure if he could trust those Logan trusted, his Thieves Guild training told him that much.

Either way, Logan was on the phone trying to convince Xavier's physician that he could somehow cure Rogue, but from the tone of the conversation Remy could tell that his friend was fooling himself.

"Hank just give it to me straight, if I bring her do you think you can help her?" Logan growled.

Remy could have sworn the feral was literally wearing the floor with every pass he made in the hall. His adamantium skeleton was not made for this world.

Remy heard what sounded like _my expertise isn't in curing mutations or dealing with remission symptoms. I'm for all intents and purposes a general practitioner and occasional researcher. I can do her no better than they can there aside from give her more one on one care._

"That's not a straight answer furball."

_ That's the only answer I can give you Logan, _the phone squeaked.

Logan snarled and then hung up the phone, turning on his heel and entering the doorway. He stopped there and leaned, like he always did, his arms crossed and his demeanor cold. The man was more than steel-hardened but Remy could tell that seeing Rogue in her current condition was taking its toll on the father figure.

"Dey can't help either can dey?" Remy accused more than asked.

Logan narrowed his eyes and set his jaw, "They can give her a lot better than she's getting here that's for sure."

"I won't leave her ta die Logan, if dey can't help her dere den I'm just gonna have ta find a way ta motivate dese bâtards," Remy sighed pulling his fingers over his eyelids.

He could feel Logan's gaze on him, the man's black eyes poring anger and curiosity on him. Logan shifted from his position in the doorway slightly, no longer leaning but standing straight. Remy leaned back in his chair and stared straight back at his old friend.

"When did it happen?" Logan asked. He was angry, Remy could tell that much, but whether it was at him still or at the situation the Cajun could not decipher. He had always enjoyed Logan's company because the man was so hard and yet so easy to read. His emotions were always worn on his sleeve, at least to someone of Remy's expertise, but his motivations were much harder to see through the man's anger and overall stoicism.

"When did what happen mon ami?" Remy asked in that lazily irritated fashion.

"When did ya fall for her?"

The question hit Remy like punch to the gut. He lost all the air in him and yet all he could do was expel more as he let out a deep sigh that formed a whistle. He shrugged, leaning forward on his knees, gazing over at Rogue. Could he pinpoint the exact moment he fell in love with her? He laughed to himself. Of course he could.

"Oh, well dat be easy, non?" he let out another breath. "De first moment I saw her."

Logan let out a half chuckle through his nostrils. "That fast huh."

Remy cocked his head to the side and quirked his eyebrows.

"Can't tell moi it wasn't dat fast wit any of yours, wit Mariko or Jean or Kayla or even Jubilee," Remy listed them off.

Logan stiffened, "It was only that way with one."

Remy knew he meant Jean and he watched as his friend crumpled for a moment under the weight of the memory. If anyone knew how it felt to kill the woman you loved it was Logan, he had done it countless times before. At least Remy could find solace in the fact that he would have someone in which to relate if this all went bad. But he didn't dare think that way. Rogue was going to make it, she had to make it, she just had to.

"I told you to take care of her. You did a Cracker Jack job of that. Almost as good as she did," Logan gritted out.

"She's not one ta easily give over her independence, or haven't ya noticed," Remy bit back.

"Well nothing can be truer than that."

They were silent for a moment both watching the breaths that were no longer her own come and go out of Rogue's body. The heart monitor beeped steadily but the brain wave monitor kept its fast pace, its erratic form that no one could say was good or bad. It was unheard of for a coma patient, all the doctors had said that, but what were they supposed to know, when it came to a mutant that is.

"She doesn't know anything about you and you don't know anything about her," Logan stated quietly.

"Non, we know each other."

"Really so she knows about the exile and the Marauders and Stryker and Sinister and everything else?" Logan quipped with a slight glint in his eye.

"Maybe not how y' t'ink, but we do. Betta den anyone else. Besides did Jean know 'bout Stryker and de Yakuza and de Silver Samurai and Stryker again and Captain Canada?"

Logan huffed.

"Does she at least know how old you are?"

They both laughed quietly at the joke.

And then out of nowhere there was a sudden rush, a rush of bodies and people and technology as the heart monitor sped up and up and kept going and Rogue's skin began to turn from the depleted yellow to a subtle pink that bordered on an angry red.

"What's goin' on?" Logan yelled as the medical team flew passed them to Rogue.

"Here temperature is rising," one said.

"We need twenty CC's of heparin and a hundred CC's of morphine" another one said.

"Careful not to puncture the plastic!" the main one yelled.

"Her heart rate is increasing still" the second one stated.

"Tell us somet'ing merde!" Remy bellowed as he attempted to push through to see what was going on.

"Sir please step back both of you please step back" the seemed to chant as they punctured Rogue's body again and again with needles.

"We're losing her, her heart rate is dropping"

"Too much heparin"

"Her brainwaves are still off the charts"

"Her heart is stopping we need to think of something!"

"Stay in there darlin'! Don't stop fighting!" Logan yelled at Rogue's limp body.

"Fight, chere, fight," Remy said as the monitor kept one steady beat and the green spikes on the screen formed a plateau.

Rogue had been wading through the muddy Mississippi waters with Cody for what seemed like days. Neither exchanged a word. Rogue was too focused on trying to decipher the language he held in his eyes, the ones she had thought she knew so well.

The day he remembered, the one she was reliving, was the very one that was burned into her brain so clearly that it was almost reality on regular days for her, at least when she had her powers that is. So she watched as Cody climbed up their tree, their dark, twisted Magnolia tree and jump into the deep running water, clouded with her own fear.

Rogue sat on the river's edge waiting for the day to end, for the sun to set so that maybe something she wasn't so fearful of, of the things that happened so long ago in her past, would not take place. She hoped that she would be spared that moment.

"Ya're not bein' much fun Marie, ya know that?" Cody asked her as he swam towards the edge.

Who was this boy before her? Had she really known someone this sweet? How could he have turned into the monster that haunted her dreams?

"Jus' tell me what Ah have ta do, Cody. Please just tell me what Ah have ta do ta make all this go away. Tell me," Rogue chanted to herself as she rocked on the shore, her knees cradled to her chest.

"It's not that easy Marie. Ya have ta figure it out yourself," Cody responded and for the first time she saw the ice in his eyes, thin sheets veneering the surface, not quite the glaciers she knew now.

Rogue stared at him and the rays that played in the bright blond streaks of his hair, "Ah don't want ta figure it out. Because somethin' tells me it means me hurtin' ya."

Cody laughed, almost maniacally and Rogue shuddered scooting up the shore towards the grass, away from the boy who was becoming more and more like the devil she knew in her current life.

"You will always hurt me, Marie. That will neva change. This day will neva change," Cody said simply as he gazed back at her from the center of the muddy river.

His eyes were clouded now, not like the Mississippi, not like how they had been when she had pleaded with him. Now they took on that icy quality of their true owner, the one set deep inside of the child Rogue had thought she had seen before her. She was overcome with fear suddenly, as it grappled with her entire body, freezing her limbs to the very spot she sat at.

She watched as the sun began to dim and darkness was once again cast about her. She sat and saw as the brown of the river turned black as oil, swirling dangerously around the thirteen year old boy. The tree hanging over the edge loomed angrily beyond her, the roots being overcome by the dark oil seeping everywhere.

She caught a glimpse of the tree. It was no longer their magnolia. No, it was the tree at the center of her psyche and once again the memories that were not hers were being suffocated by the thick liquid darkness as it spread upward, drowning all of what once was Rogue along with all that never was her. The bright red bud at the very top of the tree, the one that had yet to blossom, had yet to be overtaken, but soon the tree would shine in all its slick, shadowy glory.

"What do you want from me!" Rogue screamed to the air, filled once again with deep gray clouds.

_Fight_

It was a simple murmur, in the distance behind her, one that she was unsure she had heard.

_Fight_

The voice was small, meek.

"Why…Why do Ah fight? Why fight if Ah jus' end up hurtin' him anyway?"she yelled into the darkness surrounding her.

_Fight_

"For who!"

_For yourself._ The thought had never occurred to her before. Rogue had never fought for herself. She was always putting others before her. She had never thought about herself once since she had gotten her powers, not once did she think about what she wanted until she got the Cure. It had always been the fear of hurting those she loved, they came before her always.

Suddenly Rogue understood. She couldn't change the past anymore than she could change that she was a mutant. She couldn't stop herself from hurting Cody on that lazy Sunday in the sun wading in the water anymore than she could stop herself from waking up that morning. She couldn't fight for him anymore; she had to fight for herself. She would always hurt him and eventually he would hurt her. She couldn't change that.

_Fight Stripes_ she heard Logan murmur.

_Fight Rogue_ Kitty joined in.

_Fight dear child_ Magneto stated.

_Fight Marie_ Bobby pleaded.

_Fight kid_ Carol said.

_Fight Rogue_ John asked.

_Fight chere_…

She turned and saw them all there. All of them, everyone she had ever hurt, she had ever touched. But the one person she was surprised to see was him, he was standing there alongside everyone staring at her, pleading with her, with those damned eyes of his. She had never hurt him, not like the others.

Carol stepped forward as the sky darkened ever more behind them, as the inky stream swirled in front of them, and Cody stood awaiting his prey.

"You have to go Rogue, you can't change it, but you can embrace it."

"Ah neva hurt him," Rogue said adamantly.

Carol smiled wisely, never one to let things get ahead of themselves.

Rogue nodded. She understood. She now knew how everything in her head ticked. She was done letting things control her. She was done losing everything to that simple touch that was unwarranted. She was in control now. The past could no longer dictate her future. She knew what she had to do.

The tree above her was dripping black. She set one foot into the water and gazed on as her creamy skin was engulfed by the thick viscousy liquid. Cody beckoned her with his ice blue eyes. His smile said he was waiting for her.

Every step she took she was more drenched with the darkness, the tree sprinkling her with drops of ink and she felt it trickle down her head to her face, down from her forehead to her nose, down the curve and on to her lips. She tasted the salty death of the tree.

She reached Cody who stood with arms wide open, his palms facing upward towards the sky that was lit only by the blue emanating from his frozen orbs. She placed a hand in his as he pulled her close to his body, their chests resting against one another.

He felt the steadiness of her breath, and ran his hand along the silky skin of her arms, up to her shoulders, spreading the darkness along her snowy skin, watching as it dyed her streaks. Rogue's emerald eyes stared once more into the blue eyes of the boy she had once loved as she had once seen them, with a glimmer of hope and love and then saw as they were iced over with hatred and vengeance.

"You know what Ah call that tree, Marie?" Cody asked her, his voice sent shivers down her spine in the worst way.

He was waiting for her to acknowledge his words. He pulled her closer to him, grabbing her face in his small hands and angling her chin towards him angrily. Rogue felt the bite of his fingers into her cheeks as he forced her to look at him.

"Ah call that tree, the Tree of Death. Ya know why Ah call the tree that?"

She attempted to look away but he wouldn't let her, his fingers clawed at her still. His thumb ran along the flesh of her bottom lip as he pulled her closer to him and breathed into her mouth, "Ah call it that because that's the last thing Ah remember befo'… well befo' Ah couldn't remember anythin' anymore."

He chuckled that evil laugh of his that Rogue knew and she smirked against him.

_Fight chere_

She channeled his grin and looked at the blood red bud at the tip of the tree straining to stay pristine amongst the ever flowing darkness clawing its way up the branches of the Tree of Death.

"Ah amuse ya, Marie?" Cody asked as he pushed her face upward. "Well isn't that nice."

He dug his fingers into her back and yanked her body up towards his, pulling at her hair, exposing the flesh of her neck to him. Cody dipped his head to her neck. One touch and she would lose. She would break and he would have won, the wasteland would be his. He would rule all that she could ever have given him when they were children and so, so much more.

His lips were waiting to press against the firm now blackened flesh.

"Ah forgive you," she whispered.

Cody let out an outrageous laugh pulling his lips back from her neck and staring down into her face with a look of absurdity.

"Forgive me for what Marie?"

"Not you," Rogue stated as she gazed at him for the last time. She looked him straight in the piercing blue eyes. She could hear the sudden rumble of thunder in the distance.

"Then who?" Cody asked with that melody of laughter in his voice.

"Me," she said.

And just like that she watched as the demon who held her in his arms transformed once more into the boy she had once loved. His face suddenly fearful and unsure of what was to become of him. She held his head in her hands and stroked his hair softly. He looked on the verge of tears.

Rogue held him there gently, soothing him as the thunder rolled closer and closer to them.

"Ah forgive you," she repeated to herself.

The boy looked up at her expectantly, no longer fearful but more nervous. This was how she remembered it. She felt the butterflies in her stomach and the tingle in her limbs. This was how it was supposed to be. She no longer felt the deep pang of guilt. She had learned. She leaned down and pressed her lips to his and then there was a flash of lightning.

She closed her eyes as she felt him disappear in her arms and the wasteland catch fire, the darkness being lit by the constant lightening strikes. Rogue opened her eyes, her arms outstretched to the liquid as it burned before her, the ink of the tree spreading the flames and being engulfed by the licking fire. She saw at the other end a simple image.

The man stood amongst the flames his eyes set on her, those demon eyes set on her, never changing as the fire ignited from within him, from within those fires in his dark irises. She gazed at him and the tree taken on by the fire and the blood red bud as it flourished and bloomed in the blaze.

The flames lapped at the waves around her as he approached. With her arms outstretched she met him in the middle of the river that was set with waves of fire. And as they embraced the flames swallowed them.

She had always loved the feeling of his inferno.


	15. Unexpected Guests and Half Confessions

_**A/N: Okay so I'm not really super happy with this chapter but I am overdue for an update and while I thought I knew where I was going I really just wish I could fit more into one chapter, oh well I guess that's what chapter 16's for. THanks as always to my beautiful, amazingly fantastic reviews, favoritors and story alerters you are so appreciated and if there's ever anything you want to say or ask me put it in a review or PM me anytime, I'll be sure to get back to you! 'Kay go for it.**_

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><p>Chapter 15- Unexpected Guests and Half Confessions<p>

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><p><em>Old friends make great new enemies<em>

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><p>Fire. She was on fire. Her whole body set to an inferno. She wanted to say it was painful because it was but there was something in her chest that made her thankful for the heat. Thankful that the icy expanse within her heart and mind had receded from a moment. Her eyes were heavy, as if there was weights attached to the thin skin holding them and keeping her from seeing anything but darkness, and there was steady drumming in her ears that reminded her of the sound of rushed footsteps.<p>

Her limbs were heavy as well and full of that tingly feeling that you get when you sit for too long in the same position. She was taking deep breaths but it felt like she wasn't getting any air, like every time she breathed there was something in the way, something blocking her from pulling in oxygen. And as gradually as consciousness had started to come back to her, all of sudden, in the span of a second she was staring up at seven faces, people she had never seen before in her life all making hurried motions above her and she was gasping for air, looking down at her body and the wires and plastic that encased it.

She began to struggle and it seemed as if the people above her did not know how to respond, as if she were some sort of lab rat that had spontaneously combusted in the maze looking for the cheese. She opened her bright green eyes and looked and all of the doctors in the room froze as the monitor beside her began to beep steadily. She pulled the tube from out of her throat, the one that had been supplying her with oxygen. She gently removed the needles from her arms. She sat up in the hospital bed and stared passed the bodies with wide eyes and slack jawed expressions. She stared at the two men as they gazed back as if they'd seen a ghost. She had been doing a lot of that herself.

She attempted a smile but her body refused. Every movement no matter how miniscule hurt her, pained her and it didn't matter that she was resilient because she was exhausted. She used what little strength she had left in her body to pull open the plastic surrounding her and breath the cold fresh air that rushed in as she did so.

She sucked in all she could as steadily as she could, coughing on the immensity of it. "Can someone tell me what's goin' on?" she rasped.

There was a great silence in the room and finally it seemed the doctor's came to because just as suddenly as they had stopped their ministrations, they reconvened, running over charts and scans and printing out monitor notes and talking to one another and ignoring the patient completely.

And while they spoke Rogue couldn't do anything but sit and breathe. There was so much she wished she could say at that moment. Could confess. But instead she resigned to close her eyes, lean against the bed and breathe. She didn't realize how much she was doing just by doing that, how many prayers she had answered by just doing that.

Remy was dumbfounded and if he had been a lesser man he would have fainted. But he didn't, he stood his ground and watched as she opened her eyes and emerged from her chrysalis. And every moment he thought that it couldn't be real, that it wasn't, that he was dreaming. But he wasn't.

He didn't look anywhere but at her, and the almost serene, peaceful look she had upon her weak face. He watched every subtle breath and the full rise and fall of her chest, the natural rhythm that had been restored and the way her lips pushed out with every little exhalation of air. It was enough for him. To see her breathing on her own, to see her alive and awake and in front of him. This was enough, for now.

There was a lot of talk after that, doctors talking and Logan talking and Remy let him talk, for the first time in his life he let Logan do the talking. If he wanted to play the father, Remy would let him. So he sat at Rogue's bed side while the doctor's every bit as confused as Remy and Logan tried to explain exactly what had happened. Everything they said was inconclusive. Of course Logan was not one to take that as a real answer.

Remy sat and watched as his chere took in the soft breaths of sleep. He was unsure of when she had fallen into slumber and part of him feared her sleeping if just that it might mean she returned to that place where he could no longer hear her voice or see her beautiful green orbs. But he could tell the difference between the lush pink skin of her cheeks and the pale, jaundice colored tone she had had prior. He watched her as she slept, the same way he watched her while she was dying but this time he felt as if he could breathe easy.

He thought for a long time while gazing at her puckered lips and the small breaths they cast. About how disgusted he was at himself for putting her and himself in this situation. Not the remission, not even the Thieves Guild but in this situation where they fell for each other in the worst possible way. He hated himself for not doing right by her because it meant that he was going to lose her. He knew she didn't want him, not that way, not fully. He would have been happy with that before.

But now he loved her and that changed everything. He didn't want to, Dieu knows he didn't but he did. And for that reason as he stared at her, he could not help but feel his gut churn in anger. It wasn't her fault, it was his. If only he had been born a normal man, not a Prince of Thieves, not a mutant with devil eyes, not a womanizer so prone to seduction that he could not see the difference between it and love when it hit him over the head. Would this, could this have been different if they were both just normal people. Could they have loved each other the way a man and a women were supposed to if they had just been normal?

It was at that moment that Logan came into the room, growling as usual, and interrupted his thoughts. "Those idiots have no idea what they're talking about!" he snarled.

Remy lifted his head slightly, adjusting himself so both Rogue and Logan were in his field of vision, "What did dey say?" Gambit asked lazily.

They could have said that Rogue's body had spontaneously morphed into Jell-O and he would have been okay with it. She was still Rogue, and she was breathing beside him.

Logan shook his head and folded his arms, "They don't have any idea what happened. They just said her brain waves began to stabilize and that her heart beat steadied at the very moment she woke up, they have no idea _why_ it happened."

"I don't need a why. She's alright now, dat's all I need," Gambit said somberly.

And there was one of those silences that the two had grown accustomed to in the time it had been since Logan had arrived. The ones where they both just fell into their own thoughts and left the other to their own devices. Logan was a good friend for that, Remy thought. He never pried unless he was genuinely concerned or thought something was wrong because he never wanted anyone to pry into his business either. It was a mutual agreement.

"You should get somethin' to eat, Gumbo," Logan finally said after a few hours. "It doesn't look like you've had a good meal in a couple of days."

Remy smirked wryly and tiredly, "Dat's because I haven't."

"Go down to the cafeteria, I've got her covered," Logan told him. "I'm not leavin'."

Remy thought for a moment and Logan could see his hesitation.

"That wasn't request, Gumbo."

Remy chuckled breathily and then stood up feeling all of his muscles contract and strain and the lack of their use become evident to him. He stood for a moment before Logan gave a gruff clearing of his throat and Remy laughed his way out of the hospital room.

He was quick about getting something to eat. Mostly because he didn't want to leave Rogue alone, even if she was with Logan, for any period of time. So he opted for bringing his food with him to the room. He walked down the halls briskly, taking the stairs instead of waiting for the elevator.

He was jumpy, over anxious, and he could feel all the pent up energy rushing through his body in that moment, screaming to be exerted. He jumped and flipped over the last couple of flights of stairs before coming to the cafeteria, breathing slightly heavily and with a glisten of sweat on his brow. He was out of shape, he thought. A couple of days and he couldn't run fifty flights of stairs without being out of breath, he was horribly out of shape.

There was only medical staff in the cafeteria, no family, no patients. He figured as much. He walked up to the counter and stared at the menu. There was little to choose from but he didn't think they would have much to begin with. He opted for a simple turkey sandwich and then thought that he would get two just in case Rogue was hungry when she awoke.

The cashier eyed him warily, as if he thought there was something wrong with Remy. Remy tried his best to shrug off whatever was wrong and set to ordering his food and leaving as quickly as possible. He paid in cash, telling the cashier to keep the change, a forty-two dollar tip. That changed his expression quite fast.

Remy snatched the bag from the boy and rushed back up the fifty flights of stairs to the room. He walked down the hallway trying to calm himself down but he was full force by now, he took each breath a little more steadily and deeper trying to still his body but it seemed like every atom within him was set on fire. He smiled widely and walked into the room, and then his heart dropped and his every atom exploded in pain.

The bed that Rogue had just been in was empty, only an imprint of her body was left on it and all he could think was that she was lost to him, she had died and he hadn't even been there to say goodbye to her. He ran all the way into the room and clutched to the still warm sheets with his free hand. Logan eyed him skeptically.

"Where is she?" Remy yelled fighting back tears with anger.

"Calm down, Gumbo, she's in the shower," Logan put his hand on Remy's arm, taking the bag of food out of his hand and sniffing it before opening it up and taking out a sandwhich. "Thank's for the lunch by the way."

Remy's chest seemed to ache less.

"Did she say anyt'ing?" Gambit questioned angrily.

Logan shook his head as he began to eat Rogue's sandwich nonchalantly, "No, jus' got up and walked to the bathroom, figured she's showering since I heard the water running."

Remy let out a deep sigh and then sat on the bed staring at Logan with seething red eyes and shaking his head before throwing the brown paper bag with the other sandwich at him.

"Here, I'm not hungry anymore," he stated through a clenched jaw.

Logan ate in silence as they both waited for Rogue to emerge from the bathroom. Remy was uncertain of what she was going to say to him when she saw him. He tried to prepare himself for all the possibilities. But he knew that if she said she was going back to New York with Logan, back to Xavier's he would be crushed. He hoped she would make the right decision. He hoped she did go back. It would better for her. She wouldn't have to deal with this, wouldn't have to deal with the pain he know he cause her anymore.

It was a half an hour before Rogue opened up the bathroom door and a cloud of steam preceded her entrance to her hospital room. She had tried to tell herself to be calm while she was scrubbing off days of antiseptic smell and needle holes and the sticky stuff where the monitors had hooked on and what she was sure was dust but she couldn't calm down, not now.

Everything had shifted, her whole world, like it always did. She was facing things she had long since buried and had just now decided to surface. She had, to some degree, come to terms with her powers, with the control she could now feel coursing through her like an ever present energy that kept her heart beating. But she was still scared of it, of that control, and how quickly it could come tumbling down, how quickly it could be drained from her finger tips.

And then there were the two men standing before her. How was she supposed to address either of them? She didn't know what to say. But then she didn't think she would have to say anything, they were the ones who would need to explain. She tried to believe that, tried to let that thought seep in as she stared into his burning irises.

"What's he doin' here?" Rogue asked never taking her eyes off of Remy.

She was leaning in the doorway of the bathroom, her wet hair hanging in wavy tendrils along her face, her white strands pushed back. She had put on a fresh hospital gown, her clothes had been cut off of her when she was admitted and Remy could see her silhouette clearly through the thin white polka dotted material. She had lost a great deal of weight. She looked too thin he thought as he examined her.

She eyed him with a fierceness he had never felt. It wasn't the hunger he had experienced before so much as an anger, like that held against someone who had betrayed them. He realized why her green eyes were swirling and blazing with ferocity. He _had_ betrayed her.

"I called him." "He called me," they answered at the same time.

Rogue kept leaning against the doorframe despite her head feeling slightly woozy. She stood her ground. Remy hated the way she looked like Logan, leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. All she needed was a cigar.

"And how is it that you would have a way to call Logan? Or even know that he would be the person to call in this kinda situation, huh?" Rogue asked accusatorily.

"Because y' were an X-Man and he's an X-Man," Remy tried to evade.

"Wrong," Rogue spat. "You were keepin' tabs on me and using him ta do it."

It was more an accusation of Logan than a question. Remy sighed and Logan looked at him. Stared at him as if hoping that he would answer her.

"Non, ya guild file said y' were an X-Man and since I had a contact in de X-Men," Remy looked to Logan. "I called 'im to check into you're background after we met at de diner."

He watched as Rogue started to relive all their escapades, trying to find Logan's involvement in them, as if Remy really would have needed his help, or would have gotten it for that matter, to seduce Rogue. She clenched her jaw after a moment and Remy took that as a sign that she had put two and two together.

"He's your contact with the X-Men?" Rogue asked.

Logan nodded. "Oui, one of dem."

"One?"

"He's also friends with Storm," Logan added finally.

"How do _you_ know him?" Rogue asked. She was staring dead at Remy the entire conversation, her eyes never left his as if she would find out if he was lying just by staring into the depths of his soul found in those crimson waves.

"We worked together a while back," Logan mentioned.

"How long ago?" Rogue asked. In all her time at the mansion and all her time with Logan he had never mentioned Remy, or even a wisp of their supposed friendship.

Logan chuckled, he knew where this was going to go. "About what twenty, twenty-five years ago?"

Remy smiled and chuckled, "Dat sounds about right?"

"What?" Rogue asked confused. "Just how old are ya?"

Now Remy and Logan laughed completely watching as Rogue fumed in anger. "Chronologically I am forty; physically I'm twenty-eight."

"And mentally about fifteen," Logan mocked. Remy rolled his eyes warily.

"Is anyone gonna fuckin' tell me what's goin' on or am Ah gonna have ta answer all mah questions mahself?" Rogue shouted furious at the two men in her life, so much so she could not control her Southern drawl.

"Stryker, Rogue, he experimented on him. Messed with his abilities. That's how I know him. He helped me get in contact with him," Logan answered sternly.

Rogue let the story fall by the wayside. She could always ask about that later. There were more important questions she needed answered immediately.

"And why did you call him?"

Remy took in a deep breath. "Things weren't lookin' good Rogue, and from what he had told me he's de closest t'ing y' got to family. If things went bad, I didn't want you to be alone."

Rogue thought about that. Why? Why was he being so concerned? Why was he acting like he cared? Surely this was just what any normal person would have done for her. But he stayed. Stayed this entire time. Invaded her subconscious. She could tell by the way he looked, as if he hadn't seen daylight in weeks. He hadn't left her. This wasn't what _this_ was supposed to be, they were supposed to be professionals. Who was she kidding, they were never professional, even if they wanted to be.

"And while I could kick the shit out of him for _this_," Logan growled, glaring at Remy. "I'm glad he did, because now you can come home."

"I'm not," Rogue stated firmly.

"Sure you are, Stripes, even if I have to carry you kicking and screaming," Logan threatened.

"I'm not going, Logan," Rogue stood her ground.

Logan turned to face her and then looked at Remy with an accusing stare that said he was the reason she didn't want to leave.

"Kid, don't test me."

"No, Logan, don't test me," Rogue warned, her voice bordering on acid. "I have a life in New Orleans and I'm not leavin jus' because you think you can bully me into it."

She had made her decision. She still had so much she had to resolve. So many things she still had to fix back in the South. She was tired of running away from her problems and the biggest one of all was housed in Louisiana. She couldn't go back to Xavier's. She'd just be taking for granted what she had now.

"Come on, Rogue, everyone wants you back," Logan cajoled. "There's nothing down there for you."

"I'm a grown woman, Logan!" Rogue shouted. Her fists were clenched at her sides. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "And I said I'm not going back to Xavier's."

Remy stared at her. He couldn't help but think that she was making the wrong decision. At least at Xavier's Logan could protect her; could protect her heart, could protect her body, could protect her soul from _him_. She knew she would be safer in New York but she needed to finally face her demons, the all too real ones. If she could do it in her head, she could do it in person.

He was immensely saddened by her decision. He wouldn't be able to control it if she came back with him. He wouldn't be able to stop himself from falling completely in love with her. But he wouldn't deny her, he couldn't, he cared about her too much to do that to her.

"Now Ah wanna know when we can leave, Remy," Rogue clenched her jaw again.

"We haven't heard from de doctors yet," Remy explained.

"Have ya finished the job?" Rogue asked and for a moment Remy didn't know what she was talking about. She quirked her brows angrily and it clicked.

He had been scoping things out while they were there but he had been so occupied with her, he had let the job fall to the wayside. He knew where they kept the dosages of the Cure and knew that they would be easy to retrieve but aside from that he didn't care about anything involving it, any that didn't involve her and how she was doing.

"Non, but everyt'ing's in place," he answered quietly.

"Okay, okay," Rogue breathed in slowly. She closed her eyes and tried to stop the tears that threatened to flow from her eyes. She needed to tell him. "Ah'm pretty sure my mutation came back."

Logan just stared at her wide-eyed and Remy didn't know what to say. He didn't understand the way Logan did. Didn't understand that to Rogue her powers were like a death sentence.

Rogue reached into her psyche and felt around and loved the sound of emptiness, of the empty room. They were gone, they were gone for now. And if ever she needed them she knew they were there, in the background, but she had control, she would say when. They wouldn't control her anymore. _He_ wouldn't control her anymore.

"But…" she started. She didn't know how to keep going. Logan and Remy were quiet; waiting for her. "Ah think Ah can control it now though."

Logan looked skeptical as if he couldn't possibly believe that she was capable of doing that. Remy still didn't understand. He wanted to know what was going on.

"I don't understand…"

Rogue looked at him and for the first time in days he saw that vulnerability, he saw that innocence inside her that she couldn't control, in her emerald green eyes that seemed to plead with him not to ask, to please not ask about this. But he already had. She must answer him now.

"My mutation…it's dangerous…when Ah can't control it. Ah hurt people," and that's all she was going to say. She would explain more later. When it was just them. When they stopped being professional like they always did. That's all he would get, for now.

Remy just stared. He knew she wasn't giving him the full story. Most mutants had control issues, including him, and he knew just how much it was possible to hurt people if you didn't have control. But there was something else to this story that she wasn't telling. But he didn't pry. She would tell him, when she felt it was the right time. He was just fearful it would never be the right time.

"Are you sure you have control?" Logan asked playing the worried father.

Rogue nodded and let out a deep breath before sucking in a great amount of air.

"Look Logan, you need to go."

"What?" Wolverine stood up suddenly, angrily. He was not going to leave, not now. He was going to convince her to come home, where she belonged, if he had to harass her to the ends of the earth to do it he would. She _was_ going to come back to Xavier's with him one way or another.

"Please just leave, go back to New York!" Rogue yelled at him. "….just leave…"

Remy watched as Logan wavered. He was just as wound around her finger as Remy was, he couldn't say no to Rogue anymore, she was a grown woman, she made her own decisions. Logan had let her leave the first time, and now he couldn't tell her she couldn't send him away if she wanted to. If she didn't want to see him anymore he wouldn't force her to.

Logan walked up to Rogue as if he was planning on giving her a good bye hug but just stood in front of her. They stared at each other for a long time and Logan finally gave in. He wasn't going to fight her, not anymore.

"Alright, you take care of yourself, you hear me," he grabbed her chin and forced her to look up at him. She tried to force all the coldness she could muster into her eyes. She needed him to leave. She couldn't think straight when he was around. He was the father she never had. She couldn't get emotional on this one.

She nodded as best she could and when he wrapped his burly arms around her she didn't hug back. She couldn't. She just leaned her head against his shoulder and even though she was trying her best to keep him at arm's length like she had done with everyone else her entire life, Logan knew that the little gesture was her way of saying 'I'm sorry' and 'good bye'. She might have had everyone else fooled, but Logan knew her better than anyone.

He let go and stared into her eyes one last time, trying to put to memory the way she looked. He had to remember that she was alright, to remember that this is where she wanted to be, with him. And as much as he would always say he didn't trust Remy, it was better than other places Rogue could have been. He turned to the Cajun.

"You take care of her," Logan wagged his finger at Remy for the last time.

Remy stood up and opened his arms and the two men embraced. It was a first for both. They had been friends for years but they weren't those type of friends. Neither man was extremely emotional and that was the basis of their friendship. But in that moment Logan needed a way to be reassured that Remy would take care of her and so he held the man close to his chest and patted him roughly on the back.

He let go and walked out of the room leaving a great silence in his wake and a smell of cigars.

Remy sat back down on the hospital bed just gazing at Rogue; she was leaning against the doorframe with her back, facing the other side of the door. She wouldn't look at him, she was too deep in thought and how much Remy wished he could know what was going on in that beautiful head of hers.

She suddenly stood up fully and then walked over to the bed. She carefully laid down, pulling the covers around her and finding a comfortable position on her side. Remy had to stop himself, stop himself from curling up beside her and feeling the warmth of her body pressed against his and knowing that she was still alive and breathing. How he wished he could hold her to him and never let go so he wouldn't have to taste the bile at loving her or feel guilty for his feelings.

He sat at the foot of her bed, looking at her feet as they moved rhythmically under the covers as she rubbed them together for warmth. She never once looked at him. Her eyes were too focused on the empty wall in front of her. She knew what he had done for her and it scared her. They couldn't get attached, not now. Not when there was so much at risk.

"You should get on getting what we need so we can leave," she muttered.

He agreed in silence and Rogue felt the give of the bed as he stood up and soundlessly exited the room. She needed to be detached, at least for now. She couldn't risk it, she couldn't risk him.


	16. These Things We Know

_**A/N: Okay so I am still not completely happy with this chapter and there's so much more that I wish I could put in here and for all I know I may rewrite it but the alternatives to that were scrap it all together or to just post it, so I am posting it. To my reviewers much love as always and I promise that any of you who do share your feelings on this chapter or others will receive a PM from me, I am finally getting back on track with those as the reviewers for A Girl's Night In will testify. Anyways here's the next installment hope you enjoy, the following chapter will be up in the next few days barring a nuclear catastrophe I promise.**_

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><p>Chapter 16- These Things We Know<p>

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><p><em>Love is easy to get but hard to keep<em>

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><p>It took Gambit no time to steal the wares he needed for the guild and to pocket more than what was required. The job was simple enough, and as much as he hated to admit it, Rogue's condition had allowed for greater access to the stores of the Cure. In truth, the job had given him much needed time away from Rogue. He needed to think. About the situation he was putting himself in.<p>

They signed Rogue's release papers that afternoon, after Remy had secured that the cargo was stored in their vehicle. The doctor's said that rest was the only thing they could prescribe as just how Rogue came back from her condition was unbeknownst to them. She shrugged it off. She felt fine. Well as fine as she could feel. A little groggy and slightly more unnerved by the encounter she had with Remy and Logan but fine all in all.

Remy and Rogue did not return to their former guild villa. They instead opted for a hotel as the location of the guild villa had been compromised. Rogue tried to act like she wasn't surprised at how swanky the hotel was, she was supposed to be getting used to the fact that the guild had ridiculous amounts of money at their disposal, especially where Remy Lebeau, Prince of Thieves was concerned.

She had changed into normal clothes, with one addition. She had asked Gambit to give her a pair of his leather gloves. She wasn't going to leave anything to chance, even if she did believe she had gained control she was not going to let anything happen that she didn't want to happen. He tried to act like he hadn't noticed how she had changed. How her whole demeanor screamed vulnerable but not in the way he had previously wanted. She was not emotionally vulnerable the way he wanted to know her. She had her guard even further up than ever before.

Remy followed her into the hotel room with both of their duffel bags. Rogue walked slowly into the suite looking at the inset kitchen and living area. There were French doors that she presumed led to the bedroom. Great one bed, she thought. She went straight to the window, the one that had a view of the city lights in the valley below. It was quite breathtaking.

Remy set the bags down in the bedroom and then took out his phone. He looked over at Rogue and the way her arms were wrapped protectively around her. The way not an inch of her skin was showing except that at her neck and face. He stared at the leather gloves, his leather gloves, and the way they covered the delicate fingers. He shook his head and made to clear his throat.

"I'm gonna call de guild, tell dem dat de job is done," he stated simply. He might as well have been talking to the wall.

Rogue's eyes never left the view of the city lit up in the night. She tried to keep her breathing even, but in truth all she wanted to do was crumple at the edge of that window and sob and wail and let out all of the pain she was feeling. Who was she kidding? Nothing had changed. She was going back to New Orleans in the morning and everything would be back to normal. She would be back in the arms of the ice cold man with blue eyes and there would be nothing to stop her.

Remy waited for her response, even a meager acknowledgement that he had said something but nothing. She stared out the window. He went to the kitchen and dialed Henri's number hoping that his brother wouldn't answer the phone and he could just leave a message saying that he and Rogue would be en tow with the package in the morning. He wasn't so lucky.

"Henri," his brother answered the phone.

"Bonsoir frère, how be things," Gambit made chit-chat in as low a tone as possible, maybe he should have left the room, it seemed as if Rogue wanted to be alone.

"Things are fine frerot, how is de job goin'?" Henri asked nonchalantly. Remy knew that tone. It was that condescending tone his brother used when he did something wrong.

"Fine, we'll be leavin' in de mornin'. Should be back at de guild hall by de afternoon."

"Bon, bon. Well, if dat's all you're callin' ta tell moi den I'll let ya get back ta whateva it was you were doin'," Remy could picture Henri staring at his fingernails with the phone receiver balanced on his shoulder. "Oh by de way frerot when were ya gonna tell us dat de guild villa had been compromised, or exactly why it had been compromised?"

Remy let out a growl. He knew that's where this was going but it didn't change the fact that he didn't want to hear it.

"Look Henri I can't really talk right now. I'll explain when we get ta de guild hall tomorrow."

"Alright frérot, but I hope for your sake dat its nothin' too serious," Henri's tone shifted from playful condescension to genuine concern.

"Oui, moi too. I'll see ya tomorrow."

"Bonsoir frérot."

Gambit hung up the phone and looked up for Rogue but she was no longer at the window. He quietly snuck to the bedroom to see her laid on top of the covers her hands nestled under her head and her eyes were closed. He could tell by the fact that her chest was not rising and falling in that graceful manner and the fact that her eyelids were straining to stay shut that she was not asleep.

He debated with himself whether or not to leave her there or to make some attempt to rouse her. She wouldn't have left the room if she did not want to be alone, but he felt that after all that had happened in the testing facility that she would, should, be with someone else. However, he had the feeling that if he did go to her she would either feel that it was too much for the relationship they were supposed to be keeping or that he had ulterior motives involving carnal pleasures.

He stood at the doors to the bedroom, leaned against the frame, silently fighting with himself as he gazed at her. She looked like she was in so much pain. It was growing ever darker in the room and he wondered if maybe she was asleep. Rogue opened her eyes and saw his silhouette staring back at her, his bright red eyes glowing in the darkness. A shiver went up her spine.

"Ya hungry?" Remy practically whispered. He didn't move, she wanted him to move.

He could see her green eyes from across the room, could feel how they were luring him into a sensual trap. She shook her head, her lips pursed in that natural way that made them look so seductive. He took a deep breath and stepped towards her. Every step felt like too many and he watched as every inch he got closer to her she recoiled an inch more away from him.

He sat on the side of the bed, tried not to make her feel like he was imposing on her space but from the way she was curled in on herself he could have sworn that she didn't want him anywhere near her. But it was a lie. If there was anything Rogue wanted at that moment it was him. She needed to feel that release that only he could give; she needed to let all the worries in the world fall away like nothing and only he could melt away the ice.

"Are y' alright chere?" he asked his burning red irises piercing her in the dark.

She nodded her head slightly. Her green eyes focused on his ruby ones. Things were so much more complicated in that moment and her body ached in a way she had never felt before. Not merely for his touch and she new partially from the exhaustion from her ordeal at Worthington labs but there was something new to this ache. It was a yearning for something more beyond this life she was living and it scared her.

She needed to forget all of this, if not just for a moment in time. She could always come back to the problems that plagued her, but she might not have him, not forever and for now she needed to take advantage of what would soon leave her forever. She reached her hand out to touch his.

He felt the supple leather against his skin and could see the tears in her eyes. He didn't ask questions, if his body and his mind and his soul could tell him anything in that moment it was that she didn't care about boundaries anymore, in that second she just wanted reassurance, from what he didn't know but he wasn't going to deny her either, not when what she was asking for was something he was more than willing to give her.

His heart had changed, especially after everything that he had been through with her, for her. He lifted her hand into his and slowly took the glove from her wrist, inching it down to reveal every part of the silky cream-colored flesh running his fingertips against it softly. Rogue shut her eyes and took a deep breath. She couldn't feel the tell tale pull of him into her; all she could feel was the rapturous touch of his fingertips against her skin.

He moved closer and she allowed him to, let him come into her space. It would be the last time she thought. The last time they would ever be like this before everything came tumbling down. She didn't want to think about that though, not now. Not while his fingers were tracing beautiful patterns in her skin.

He hovered over her, his body never quite touching hers as he unzipped her jacket and slowly, gently pulled the fabric from her arms, his fingertips grazing every bit of flesh that was revealed. He continued this treatment of her, worshipping all that he could see and feel. She was changed and he knew it and he was fearful that he would never again know what it was like to feel her skin beneath his fingers or smell her intoxicating scent of magnolias. He wasn't going to risk not committing something this beautiful to memory.

Finally she lay beneath him completely bare and for the first time since he met her, since he wanted to find a way to break down her guard he saw her without it and he marveled at the amazing beauty held behind it. Rogue felt naked for the first time with Remy but she wouldn't give it up, not for anything. Things had changed and she had finally let them. But she knew as quickly as they had changed, as fast as they had embraced this it would just as quickly change back.

This time they went slowly. The savored everything the other gave them. There was no carnal pleasure, no ferocity behind their movements. They were fluid, part of one another more than they had ever been before. Every single fiber of Rogue was part of every single fiber of Remy and she swore that she could feel the electricity crackle between them with every thrust, with every rise and fall of their hips.

He had touched every single inch of her and she had reciprocated, she had explored everything he had to offer and he realized then that they had never felt anything like this before, that things had never been this explosive between them. It felt like every particle within them was on fire and could only be quenched by the other.

Remy held her hands as he pushed into her, Rogue pressed her lips to his neck, his jaw, his lips clutching at his hands. He pulled his hands downward, his rhythm slow and pulsating as Rogue met him each time. He grazed his hands downward against her ribs, her waist, her hips; tracing every bit of her once more. They were lost in the bliss of the heat of their own personal inferno.

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><p>Rogue lay in Remy's arms as he played with her fingers, staring into his eyes shielded by wisps of auburn hair. They were wrapped up in the sheets and she could still feel his body wrapped around hers as if there was a permanent imprint of him on her, in her, in every way possible.<p>

In the aftermath of their bliss both were more open with each other than ever before and as such neither was willing to pass up the chance to find out more, to break past those barriers they held so high.

Remy was first to break the silence, pushing his fingers into Rogue's as he spoke. "Y' ever gonna tell me exactly what your powers are?"

Rogue tried to hide how taken aback she was by his question, she did well by posing another. "Are ya gonna tell me 'bout you and the Wolverine?"

She quirked her eyebrows and stared him down and he couldn't help the grin that came to his face.

"Fine y' spill an' so will I."

"How am Ah supposed ta trust ya, you're a thief," she replied cheekily. He chuckled.

"You're just gonna have ta take my word chere."

Rogue let out a huff of breath and then began speaking. For some reason it wasn't hurting, not all the remembrances of how her powers had hurt her so many times before. Maybe it was the fact that she had finally come to terms with them or that who she was sharing them with was someone who…no it wasn't him, had nothing to do with him.

"Ah was thirteen when my powers manifested. Ah have the ability to drain people of their life force and if their mutants steal their powers for a short amount of time. The longer Ah hold on to someone the more Ah take from them."

Remy was quiet and Rogue looked up at him, she saw nothing in his eyes, no pity, no disgust, just attentiveness and so she continued.

"The first person to eva touch me with my powers ended up in a coma for five years. And so I ran away, made it all the way ta Alaska on my own, that's when Logan found me. Brought me to Xavier's and from there Ah became and X-Man."

"So that's why ya took de Cure, ta be able ta touch?" Remy asked, running his fingers across her bare shoulder, brushing her hair behind her. Rogue nodded.

"Ah had hurt too many people by then. Ah just wanted ta be normal."

"I understand," Remy said quietly.

Rogue looked back at him, she knew that was something that everyone said, but no one knew, no one knew how it felt to be a prisoner in their own body like she did. But there was something in his eyes that told her he did. He knew.

"Mon turn?"

"Guess so."

Remy took a deep breath. "I was fifteen when mon powers manifested and it was hell."

Rogue stared. Surely she had to know that he was a mutant. No baseline human could have such haunting eyes but his admittance felt like so much more. She knew deep down that he was like her but it had never occurred to her before. She had never seen him use his abilities before, how was she to know.

"Y' see I can bio-kinetically charge objects and at that time I could charge anything even organic molecules. After deux years of not knowing what ta do 'bout mon powers I was kidnapped by Stryker and taken ta Three Mile Island. There they removed part of my brain, lowered my power level from a class five to a class four."

Rogue was shocked, the only class five she had ever heard of was Jean and she knew how badly that had been, the destruction that woman had caused was insurmountable, she saw in Remy's eyes that he was telling the truth.

"But Ah don't understand, where does Logan come in?"

"Patience chere," Remy smiled softly.

Rogue pressed her hand into his and listened ever more intently.

"After mon surgery I could only charge things that were non-organic," Remy demonstrated by setting the sheets alight with kinetic energy.

Rogue was dazzled by the faint magenta glow that was emitted and the flash of electricity that passed through Remy's eyes.

"If I were ta let this charge go de sheets would blow inta a million pieces," he smirked. "Now imagine being able ta do dat ta a person and how absolutely frightenin' dat would be?"

Rogue suddenly pressed her lips against his and for a moment they were lost in each other. Remy didn't know why she had kissed him. But he wasn't one to question her on such things, he merely reciprocated the gesture and when they pulled apart proceeded with his story. He smiled at her as he twirled a strand of her hair around his finger lazily.

"Now after deux years in dat prison, I escaped and not but three months later Logan comes lookin' for moi. Y' see I was de only homme ta ever break outta Three Mile Island and seein' as he had a bone ta pick wit Stryker I brought him ta de island. We've crossed paths a couple o' times since but dat be de story of how we met."

"He never mentioned ya before," Rogue whispered.

"Didn't assume he would, I'm not de type of friend most people bring up in conversation unless dey need some sort of favor," Remy said truthfully.

Rogue wondered if there had been any time when she was at the mansion that Logan had been in contact with Gambit or Storm for that matter. She wondered if anyone else had ever met him and she was the only one left in the dark as to his existence. What would have her life had been like if she had met him before? Before all of this had ever happened?

Remy brushed his lips against Rogue's ear in that moment and faintly spoke to her, "Tell moi a secret."

She smiled at him, "What do ya wanna know, Swamp Rat?"

"Why'd you join de Thieves Guild?" Remy asked his hand trailing down her shoulder as he looked into her eyes.

Rogue tried to hide her smile and shrugged. "Why did you?"

Remy chuckled, "Didn't really have much of a choice, mais I asked y' first."

Rogue took a deep breath. "Ah was told it was the only way to be guaranteed protection in New Orleans, join them or the Assassin's Guild and Ah had no intention of killing anyone or bein' killed by anyone anymore so Ah figured the Thieves Guild was my best bet, especially seein' as my powers make me a thief for the most part."

Remy put his finger under her chin and pressed his lips to hers, "Well I'm glad y' not an Assassin."

"And ya?"

"Chere I was thievin' since before I had baby teeth," Remy grinned widely.

"Ah'm so dumb y' were born inta the guild weren't you," Rogue stated. How could she be so stupid why else would he be the Prince of Thieves, he was Remy _Lebeau_, heir to the patriarchy, obviously he had always been a thief.

Remy let out a louder than normal chuckle and Rogue stared in confusion. "What, what is it?"

Remy took a breath and tried to stop laughing, "Y' would t'ink I was born inta de Guild mais I wasn't. I was adopted."

Rogue quirked an eyebrow as if she didn't believe him.

"Notice how moi and Henri and even Jean-Luc look nothin' alike?" Remy asked amusedly.

Rogue thought it over. It was true Remy looked nothing like his curly-brown haired brother or father to say nothing of the obvious difference in attractiveness. Sure Henri and even Jean-Luc weren't unattractive men but they were nowhere near what Remy had, the man was mesmerizing.

She realized that their family qualities were in their nature, the authority that dripped from Remy's every word was that of his father, his easy-goingness and causality that he inherited from his older brother. They were a family even if they weren't truly related.

Rogue thought back to when she first found out he was a LeBeau, she had chocked up his looks to that of his mother, the woman she had never seen around the Guild when she went act as informant.

"Ah always thought ya must've looked like ya mother, but Ah guess Ah should've known better," Rogue said thoughtfully.

"Ouias mais Henri's mere passed long before I was brought inta de Guild. She died in childbirth."

Rogue nodded solemnly. There was another silence as she thought of what to say to him. What was there to say when something like that was expressed? She fumbled for the right words.

"What 'bout ya chere and ya famille?"

Rogue half-choked, half-laughed. "What about them?"

Remy shrugged, "What are dey like?"

"Let's just say mah family life is nothin' if not complicated."

"I'm listening," Remy replied slyly.

Rogue stared at him unsure of how to proceed seeing only his amused expression and that playful flickering of his red eyes staring back at her. She didn't know how to tell anyone anything about her family. Some things were just better left in the past.

"Can ya ask me for another secret?" Rogue asked quietly brushing her lips against Remy's jaw.

Remy looked at her and saw in her eyes that vulnerability once again, that lack of trust, not just for him but for everyone and anyone she had ever met or ever would meet, for the people who had obviously wronged her in her life and even for herself. He quickly cupped her face in one of his hands running his thumb over her lips and felt as her tongue poked out to tickle the skin there.

She opened her eyes and he saw that she had once again put up that wall and was hiding behind her ferocious green siren eyes that held a mischievous glint.

Remy smiled at her, chuckled and shrugged letting the topic drop, "What do ya wanna tell moi?"

Rogue thought for a moment. She didn't know what to say. What could she possibly tell him about her that would be at all interesting and that wouldn't tear her apart telling him about?

"You start," she told him firmly and he laughed silently.

"Fine," he replied and was silent for a moment while he thought and then simply said, "I was married once."

Rogue's eyes grew wide at his admission. She wasn't sure why but she felt like he had betrayed her trust by never telling her this. And suddenly she felt a pang of jealousy erupt through her chest as she thought of him with another woman doing the things he did to her with someone else. But who was she to judge, in fact she had no right especially when she had been married, was still married.

"What happened?" she asked.

"It was an arranged marriage, she was an assassin, de princess of de Assassins' Guild ta be exact."

"Ya married an assassin? Who am I kiddin' that sounds like ya."

Remy chuckled, "Oui I did. De marriage was supposed ta unite de guilds, too bad her brother had other things in mind."

"Ya mean big brother didn't approve of you," Rogue teased.

"Not in the least," Gambit continued. "And den at our weddin' reception he challenges moi ta a duel. And mind y' dis is before I got mon powers reducted an' all so I wasn't in control of anythin' at dis point and…and Julien died."

"Guess that was the end of ya marriage then huh?"

"Oui and de beginning of mon exile from Nawlins," Remy remembered solemnly. "Wasn't allowed within the city limits for fifteen years but when Belle finally took her place as Matriarch of de guild she lifted mon exile."

Rogue's mind was fizzling and popping at all the information he was giving her. She knew Remy was not the type to take admissions lightly, he was opening himself up to her in ways he probably hadn't with anyone and here she was with her wall as high up as ever.

"Your turn chere," Remy grinned wickedly and Rogue could help but smile despite the fact that she had no idea what to say.

Part of her just wanted to tell him. To confess everything she needed to. Tell him how she was married to a lunatic. How she was in love with a demon eyed man. How she had killed her only friend in the world and taken the innocence from a young boy. But she couldn't, she was a coward. So she told him the only thing she knew to be true, now and forevermore.

"Ah've never really had a friend before," Rogue admitted quietly, not looking Remy in the eye.

"I don't believe y'," Remy said lifting her chin with his finger. "Know why?"

Rogue stared at him, her emerald eyes piercing his with a sadness he had never felt before from her. She shook her head and he licked his lips as he said the next words. He meant them with all of his heart.

"Because I'm y' ami, chere. Just like I'm Logan's ami," he smiled at her and watched as she smirked back at him and rolled her eyes.

"No you're not, Swamp Rat," Rogue gritted her teeth, trying to stop herself from crying.

And suddenly Remy's lips where against hers and he was breathing against her neck, his skin igniting hers.

"Okay maybe not like I'm Logan's ami," he grinned wickedly at her. "But chere I am, and I'm de best ami because I can do dis," he grazed his teeth against her earlobe as his hand ran from her hip to her most private place as he began to play with her.

"Don't…start...Cajun," Rogue let out breathily in protest but she couldn't help it, he knew just how to drive her insane with want.

He was giving her an out and she was letting him. He knew her too well. And so she gave over to him and the careful ministrations and slow and soft feeling of his flesh against hers, around hers, in hers. He was all she would ever need. But she would never admit it to herself.


	17. An Unwelcome Homecoming

**A/N: First off I want to give a great big thanks to all my reviewers especially JasmineBella for giving me the biggest compliment ever in her last review! I don't know what to say except thank you thank you thank you! Big hugs! And to JayDay, WarriorPrincess1980, SlightlyxJaded, and all of you who have kept with this story, your reviews mean the world to me.**

** Anyways this a three in one update so that no one is left hanging. I thought it would be cruel to leave people off on any of these next chapters so I put them all together. This story will be coming to a close soon, so be prepared. Thank you so much everyone and enjoy! **

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><p>Chapter 17- An Unwelcome Homecoming<p>

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><p><em>If home is where the heart is, how do I get to you<em>

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><p>The next morning came too quickly for the both of them. She didn't want to break the peace; he didn't want the silence to last. They were always on opposing sides of their alliance. She could see in his eyes that he wanted to say something, that he was biting his tongue for her sake so she spoke first.<p>

"What's gonna happen once we get back ta N'Orleans?" Rogue whispered hoping that Remy hadn't heard anything.

He stopped playing with her fingers, the sweet smile he was wearing slowly slipping from his face. He looked at her, probing her with his eyes before answering simply.

"First we're gonna go ta the guild hall and hand over our loot, then we'll receive payment for the job. After dat we both go back ta doin' what we do for de guild, me thievin' and y' usin' your knowledge base ta help us wit jobs."

Rogue didn't look at him, she just let out a plain, "Oh."

He was scared she was asking him about what was going to happen between them after they got back to New Orleans and now he found his answer from the inconsequential 'Oh' that Rogue thought she was muttering. He thought she would have known better than to do such things around him by now.

She immediately got up and started to shuffle around looking for her clothes and Remy couldn't help but hear the snap as her guard locked back into place. He could see it with her every motion that she was hiding her feelings, hiding what she really wanted to see, he could see the waves of words rolling off of her as she rotated her shoulders into her shirt. He watched as she dressed as she put on her shirt, her jeans, her jacket and then searched for the pair of gloves, _his_ pair of gloves.

When she was finished changing she walked into the living room and Remy lost sight of her. He knew what those gloves meant. It was her way of pushing the world away and now he was a part of that world just like everyone else. Forget what happened last night. He was just another one of those poor Joe's that would never get close to her again; whose heart she broke.

He let out a deep sigh and got busy packing all of their things and getting dressed. They had to be at the private airport by nine and it was already seven. They were returning home with everything changed and yet nothing. What would really happen once they got back? Would they continue on as before? Remy knew that they couldn't. Not after what had transpired between them last night. It was no longer about sex, it was about everything else.

They arrived at the airport just in time and neither spoke the entire flight, Rogue gave him the same treatment as before, rolling over into the lounge and falling asleep or at least pretending to be asleep. Remy wouldn't deal with the silence the same way though. He took to the bar, drowning his sorrows in bourbon.

When they got to the guild the cordiality went up just a notch. Remy didn't touch her even though his body was urging him to take her hand and lead her into the Guild Hall. She had been here countless times before probably. But this was his home along with his workplace. Or it had once been long ago. It was the first time he had ever really seen her here. Sure there was the council meeting but that didn't count. She was here with him now. He deluded himself into thinking it was for ulterior reasons.

"Come chere, we need to hand over de cases," Remy led her into the back most part of the mansion where the garage was.

This was the transition area. They would take down the inventory here and then it would be sent to one of the Guild Warehouses and the shipment that the Rousseau's were to receive would be sent from here as well. Remy had two of the servants pick up the cases and he led Rogue down a small hallway into the inventory area where a man stood behind a counter with a series of clipboards in front of him.

"Awww Monsieur Lebeau, another successful heist I see," the man behind the counter crooned.

Remy gave him a half grin, half sneer and then gestured the two men with the cases of the Cure to open them and display the wares. The man stepped from behind the counter and lifted his glasses and counted the vials within each box, pointing to them with his pencil before returning to his station and scribbling some figures on one of the clipboards and then on a scrap of paper.

"Well here you go, I hope ta be seein' ya real soon, non?" the man said as he handed Remy the scrap of paper.

"Oui," Remy replied curtly as he took Rogue's hand and pulled her towards the hall. "Come on chere."

Rogue followed him down hallways she had never before traversed and while part of her wanted to scan and memorize each area she was so overcome by the knowledge that this may very well be the last time she was here in this mansion with this man holding her hand she couldn't. This may very well be the last time she ever felt anything, she thought.

There were a series of staircases and an elevator into a sub basement. Rogue would've said she was somewhat unnerved by the sheer size of the Lebeau mansion, it was even bigger than Xavier's but she figured that such operations as crime syndicates were known for would need some space. She followed Remy as he tugged her along wishing that she had not put on his leather gloves, wishing she could feel the heat and thin sweat lining his palms.

But another part deep inside her just wanted to run, to flee from these feelings welling up in her stomach and threatening to take over. There was only a couple more steps she kept chanting to herself. A couple more steps and then she would be paid and everything would be over just like he said it would be. But she didn't want it to be over, she didn't want him to leave, she didn't want him to be lost forever and that was a dangerous thing.

Rogue looked ahead as another counter came into view, behind it visible a series of desks and cubicles. There was no one manning this desk however. Remy kept tugging at her to hurry along and she couldn't help but wonder why. She thought maybe he too wished he could run from the inevitable ahead of them, or at least make it come just that much faster.

They approached the counter and could hear the clicking of various keys. Remy rang a bell on the side of the counter and a woman suddenly appeared, walking past the cubicles and staring at Remy with a unhappy expression. Remy handed her the scrap of paper the other man had given him and she looked it over before glaring at him once more.

"Do you eva make mon job easy, Monsieur Lebeau?" the woman asked condescendingly.

Remy attempted to chuckle. "De accountin' department hardly has an easy job ta begin wit Martha."

The woman nodded her head in agreement as she took the scrap of paper and deposited it into a small file. From there she produced a clipboard and a pen and stuck it out to Rogue. Rogue eyed it warily looking to Remy for confirmation. The woman looked irritated.

"Fill out these forms please," the woman asked as politely as she could.

Remy nodded and Rogue took the clipboard from her. "What's this for?" Rogue whispered angrily at Remy.

"Bank account information, for wire transfer of y' share of the money for de job. Can't give y' cash as de amount would be too much for de accountin' department ta cover on a business day," Remy explained as Rogue began to fill in her information and handed over the forms to the woman.

"The money will be in your account by the end of the day. Enjoy your afternoon Ms. And you too Mr. Lebeau," the woman said snippily as she returned to whence she had come.

And so Gambit quietly led Rogue back upstairs and out into the foyer. His hand was gripping hers as tightly as he could without hurting her. He didn't want to let go. He didn't want her to leave but knew she would. She had pushed him so far and there was nothing he could do anymore other than feel what he felt and hope that she could one day reciprocate.

The foyer was empty and Rogue found herself staring up at Remy and his downcast red eyes and the somber expression he was wearing. There was so much she wanted to tell him, to confess to him but she couldn't. She didn't deserve a man like him no matter what her feelings for him told her.

"Ah guess this is good bye then," Rogue said quietly as she pushed her fingers between his meeting his palm with hers.

Remy looked down at her and the tears welling up in her eyes, "It doesn't have ta be."

Rogue's startled expression was enough to give him hope. But then again he knew her well enough to know that she would misconstrue his actions. So he placed a hand on her hip and hoped to God that she didn't think he was using her. Hoped to God that she realized there was something more here.

Rogue leaned into him pulling at his trench and feeling the give of the fabric underneath her fingers, taking in a deep breath of his heady scent that made her knees weak. Would the smell of smoke and spices and something all him ever be out of her head? Would she ever know how to live without comparing everything to that wondrous, rapturous scent?

Rogue pressed her hands firmly against his chest, she could feel his heart beating rapidly under her palm, steadily through the firm sinews and she found her head resting lightly against his heart and tears slowly making their way down her cheeks.

"This is the end, isn't it?" Rogue asked more to herself than to Remy.

She knew the second those words escaped her lips she would regret them. They were what she had always feared of confessing. The truth. Lies were so much easier to live by.

Remy lifted her chin to look into her dazzling emerald eyes and the tears that were streaking her beautiful face. As much as he wanted to reassure himself this wasn't the last time he would see her, that this wasn't the only confession of love for him that she would give him, he knew that it was. But that wouldn't stop him from trying.

"It's not our end chere."

Remy pulled his arms around her bringing her as close to him as possible, hoping to absorb her body into his if that was at all possible. He pulled back and gazed down at her and the horror stricken face she was wearing.

"Sta-"

"M'siuer Lebeau!" a sudden exclamation was heard and Remy's head jerked back towards the sound of the noise.

There was a servant on the staircase leading towards the family quarters. He wondered what could possibly be of such importance that he be called for let alone at this hour. Most of the family would be tending to their duties in the lower levels, or at least they should be.

Remy kept his hold on Rogue as he spoke, "What is it?" his tone dripping with irritation.

The servant practically jumped out of his skin at the tone and the subsequent glare he was receiving from Gambit.

"De Patriarch has requested you see him at once, he says urgent business has come up," the servant whimpered.

Gambit growled. Of course Jean-Luc would ruin such a moment as this. "Did he say what it was regardin'?"

"No, M'sieur just that it was urgent," the servant cowered.

Remy turned his attention back to Rogue but he realized there was nothing left for him to say. She was unwrapping her arms from his, pulling her limbs around herself in that protective manner once more. No he shouted to himself. How could she so easily push him away? It wasn't his fault. He wanted to tell her, needed to tell her that he would be here for as long as she wanted him to be.

"Rogue?" he asked as she began to step away from him, her eyes locked on the floor.

"Hmm?" she asked as if her attention had been elsewhere this entire time.

"Chere, don't. Please stay."

Rogue caught his eyes and the pleading she saw within them. She wanted nothing more than to kiss him in that moment, to embrace him and then run as fast as she could so that she would no longer hurt him. So that she would never again have to see the pain reflected back at her in those damn, beautiful burning crimson irises.

She spun back towards him and tentatively tipped up to his height to kiss his lips gently and then fall silently back on her heals.

"Go ahead, Ah'll be here when ya get back," she told him as she crossed her arms and started to walk towards the waiting room to her left.

He held her hand in his as long as he could but she broke the kiss and the embrace too fast. He watched her shrinking figure as the servant mumbled 'urgent' over and over again. He didn't want to leave her. It was too much to be left to chance.

"We're gonna talk when I get back, chere. I promise," Remy said, Rogue casting him a glance over her shoulder and giving him a less than half-hearted smile.

Remy sprinted up the steps once out of Rogue's line of sight. He didn't know what the hell Jean-Luc wanted but in that moment he didn't give a damn. He couldn't let her get away. He couldn't let things end like this, so fucked up and torn. He was better that this. He could do much better with the hand he was dealt than what he was right now.

Remy made his way to Jean-Luc's private study in the family wing of the Lebeau mansion; the sanctuary where Jean-Luc would work when he needed a way to get away from at least some of the Guild politics.

Remy burst through the door to see Henri sitting in one of the comfy leather chairs in front of Jean-Luc's desk the two seeming to be discussing something amusing as both had silly grins on their faces and the jovial tone of their voices. Upon his entrance both Jean-Luc and Henri craned their heads towards the door, grinning bemusedly at Remy to his chagrin.

"Well, well have ya been runnin' frerot?" Henri teased.

"What is it?" Gambit let out, trying to hold back his irritation.

"Père I t'ink Remy's been out for a run or something look at all the sweat on his brow," Henri kept commenting as Jean-Luc regarded his younger son.

"Oui, his looks a bit disheveled," Jean-Luc replied.

"Quoi is it, père? I'm kinda busy at de moment," Gambit gritted exasperatedly.

"Now, boy is dat anyway to talk ta y' pere?" Jean-Luc mock chastised with a playful grin.

Gambit rolled his eyes and shook his head, he would only let half his body in this damn door he promised himself that much. He would only allow himself that much space, any more so and she would be gone by the time he returned, he knew she wouldn't wait, not for him.

"Sil vous plait, père what is it?" Remy pleaded.

"Come sit mon fil," Jean-Luc said gesturing to the seat.

"Can dis wait jus' a moment I have somethin' I'm tryin' ta take care of at de moment," Remy kept himself steady at the doorframe.

Jean-Luc raised his eyebrows then gave his son a determined glare. Not the glare of his father, but that of his boss, that of the Patriarch of Thieves Guild of New Orleans to one of his subordinates. There was nothing Remy could do but comply with his father's tacit words.

"Now," Jean-Luc began sternly. "How did de job go?"

That's when Remy lost it, he could no longer hold his anger or frustration. He needed to get downstairs, Rogue needed him, she needed his reassurance that he was leaving her, that he would forever be there for her if she needed him, when she needed him.

"Are ya fuckin' kiddin me Jean-Luc?! De job went fine now I got somethin' I need ta take care of!" Remy yelled as he all but stormed out of the room.

"REMY ETIENNE LEBEAU GET BACK HERE!" Jean-Luc bellowed from behind his desk.

Had this been another time and another place Remy would have been fearful of that expression of anger but he had known Jean-Luc for too long and had not been intimidated by his father for years, despite having ample reasons as to why he should be ridiculously frightened by that voice and tone and the silent threat attached to it.

Remy's body disappeared from site as he flew down the hall, Jean-Luc yelling at him the entire way. Part way through his exclamations of anger, Jean-Luc angrily goaded Henri to follow him, as if his eldest son could somehow retrieve his younger brother. Henri sauntered down the hallway chuckling. It was almost as bad as when they were teenagers and Remy had been caught sneaking out to visit Bella Donna at the Boudreaux mansion. The only difference now was that they were grown men. He would've thought his brother would have learned better by now.

Remy rushed back down the staircases, jumping as best he could from landing to landing desperate to make sure she was there, still waiting for him. He rounded the last staircase as the foyer came into site. He hopped over the railing and rushing to the waiting room his heart and breathing slowing as he caught site of Rogue's body facing away from him on one of the couches.

He approached her but there was something wrong. She was wrong. His heart caught in his throat as he put his hand to her shoulder and she turned to gaze at him with wide blue eyes.

This woman was not Rogue, she had neither the emerald green gaze nor the silky snow-white streak of hair to frame her face which was square not round like Rogue's. Her lips were thin and in a small smile as she regarded Remy who stepped away from her in all but disgust.

"Hello," the woman stated with an air of subtle seduction. Remy fought back the bile.

He called out for one of the servants who appeared in front of him without a moment's hesitation.

The servant first regarded the woman, "Oh Mademoiselle Cunningham I am sorry for the inconvenience it'll just be a few more minutes before you'll be seen."

The woman nodded and continued to smile with flirtatious eyes at Remy who paid her no mind.

"The woman that was in de foyer wit me before, where'd she go?" Remy asked hastily all but grabbing the servant's collar to get answers.

"Desole M'siuer, I do not know, she was in the waiting room before y' left and den not but a minute later left through the front door. She never said where she was going."

Gambit let go of the servant and went straight out of the door that led to the grounds from the foyer. He knew it was too late even as he opened the door and the afternoon sunlight hit him at full force. But it didn't matter he was still hoping for a glimpse of her amongst the lush grass, sitting beneath one of the billowing trees, her hair swaying in the breeze.

But he didn't get any glimpse. No sight of her at all. Just the wisp of what his mind was wishing for being washed away but the humid breeze with the faint scent of magnolias. He had lost her.


	18. Realizations of Something More

Chapter 18 - Realizations of Something More

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><p><em>You're waiting for someone ,To put you together<em>

_You're waiting for someone to push you away _

_There's always another wound to discover_

_There's always more you'd wish he'd say_

_He's everything you want, He's everything you need_

_He's everything inside of you that you wish you could be_

_He says all the right things at exactly the right time _

_But he means nothing to you, And you don't know why_

"_Everything You Want"- Vertical Horizons_

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><p>Rogue was sitting on the tile, cold water cascading down her face as she tried to gulp in air.<p>

_"Sta-" His burning red irises pleading with her._

Stay. She had wanted to stay. He was going to ask her to stay. She hadn't the courage to stay. She left with the light breeze and no words and here she was not but a few hours later rocking her naked body across the tile of _his_ shower in the god forsaken house she had the stupidity to leave and come back to.

He had already defiled her. That had taken place upon her arrival on the porch steps. It didn't matter if it was broad daylight. It didn't matter that her screams seemed to echo inside her head for hours on end as he beat, slapped, pushed, tore, scraped, forced, tainted, and degraded her. She would say this was the worst she had ever experienced before but she knew it wasn't true.

The pain he had inflicted upon her from the moment she set foot on his stoop was not the reason she was in his shower bawling, screaming to the heavens to just let her die so she wouldn't have to live with this pain.

She hadn't even fought it. She knew it was coming from the second she had set foot outside of that door and onto that pristine lawn with the lush, green grass. She knew that even with the means to kill him now coursing through her, encasing her she would never have the ability to do it. She hated herself too much to allow it.

All she felt now was pain. The scorching and searing pain that was ripping through her chest and singeing every particle of her being as her heart beat on. She couldn't breathe because the flames would only engulf her lungs and as she gasped for air nothing but more heat escaped her lips.

She cried out in agony, over and over again, wishing, hoping, praying for something more than this pain. She had left him. He was the only person to ever see her for who she was without needing any prompting, without any attempt to know more. He knew her better than anyone had ever, better than even she knew herself. She had left him and now he was burning her from within. Her soul set alight.

He had shown her so much with so little. She could still taste him on her lips, could still smell his scent of smoke and spices, could still feel his skin imprinted on her own and it was like she was living through hell. She cried lying on the cold white tile hoping she could drown in the icy water mixed with her salty tears.

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><p>Remy was sitting in Jean-Luc's office once more. His father was spouting off about responsibility something he heard more than his fill of over his life. He didn't care if he was heir to the Guild. There was so much more on his mind.<p>

He had lost her forever. That's all he could think of as his father yelled and his brother pleaded with whispers and looks for him to pay attention. She was gone to him. He would never again have her body _and_ soul. If they ever saw each other again, it would be back to the same old games. _If_ he thought. She was gone. Who was to say she hadn't fled his life altogether.

Remy caught Jean-Luc's next words, "Y' compromised de Guild Villa and made no contact wit us of such, how do you expect me ta just hand over de Patriarchy to y' if you can't even follow normal protocol Remy!"

"She was dying," he muttered. He wasn't sure if he said it aloud, his thoughts seemed to be screaming, where his words seemed to be lost on the still air.

Henri gazed at him in confusion and Jean-Luc, so surprised by this sudden admission, sputtered for a second and then was silent. Remy used to the silence to continue.

"She took de Cure, she didn't tell anyone. Aside from me. When we got there the remission symptoms started and she almost died. If I hadn't compromised the villa she would've died. I'm no assassin; I won't have blood on mon hands for nothin'."

Henri regarded his brother. He knew that he was not a cold-hearted man, that he would have very well compromised the villa for any contact that had accompanied him on a job. But there was something different in his tone; in that displacement that reminded Henri of someone who was completely and utterly despondent. His brother was anything but despondent.

Jean-Luc sensed it as well. The once carefree boy he had raised was now a man overcome with grief. Never before had he seen this man before him. Even when things turned down that horrible path, and his son knew pain, he never once showed it, not like he was now.

"Mon fils-"

"No Jean-Luc; y' do not get ta lecture me 'bout right and wrong. Not anymore. I'm not a child and I'm not ignorant. I know what I did wrong and I would do it over again if I had to. I will not have blood on mon hands."

Jean-Luc was silent for a moment and he sat at his desk looking down at his steepled hands. There was something that he needed to know. Something he already knew but that only Remy could confirm.

"Mon fils," Remy made a noise as to interrupt but Jean-Luc merely held up his hand. "Now I'm goin' to ask y' a question and I want y' to answer truthfully."

Remy stared at his father. More accusations. More consequences. Would he ever be out of the sheer politics of the Guild? He didn't want to deal with any more questions and anymore statements about his stupidity. He was tired of everything in his life. He just wanted one thing.

"I don't want y' ta take offense but I must know mon fils as your father and as the Patriarch."

Remy tried to keep focused but his mind was elsewhere and his irritation was running high. If he had his way he would be back at his apartment drowning himself in a couple bottles of bourbon and more than a few women.

"Were _you_ compromised Remy?"

Henri attempted to act as if the question had shocked him somewhat but the point was moot. There was really only one option, really only one answer to the real question. Why had he _needed_ to save her? Henri gazed over at his brother and the apathetic face he was making. After years and years of reining in his emotions he was still so perfect at it.

Remy didn't flinch even though his heart skipped a beat at the question. He didn't blink, he didn't breath, he didn't move he just stared. Stared at his father with an almost glassy eyed gaze. He folded his hands in his lap and continued to look at his father. Raising his brows.

"Is that what y' think? Is that why y' think I _let_ the Guild villa be compromised?" Remy said as calmly as was possible for him at the moment.

"Remy it happens to many thieves. Emotions get in de way y' know that," Jean-Luc coaxed. "And y' have a reputation mon fils."

Remy let out a dark chuckled and shook his head. "We're done here. Do what y' will. Punish me, retract my reinstatement, exile me for all I care Jean-Luc because I am done wit dis bureaucratic bullshit."

Remy stood up and approached the door, it had hurt him to tell his father how he really felt but it was something he needed to say. There was no way he could go on and inherit the Guild when he hated it, he could thieve fine, but this, these accusations, and trials. No he could never be okay with this aspect of the job.

Remy put his hand on Henri's shoulder, "Y' were always de better choice, frère. I am sorry père, I just can't do this anymore."

With that Remy left the room and slowly took the stairs. His life was unraveling before him and he was an active party in the undoing. It just didn't seem worth it anymore. Nothing did when everything he did would just make him hate himself that much more. He loathed himself for letting his love for her change him so drastically in so little time.

He stalked to the one place he knew he could hide and no one would come looking for him, the one place he thought he had outgrown long ago. He opened the door and saw all the things he cherished long ago in the same place, all the things that seemed so important before that were really nothing at all.

He sat on the four poster bed where he had slept for most of the years of his childhood and stared out the window at the setting sun. Where was he to go from here? What was he supposed to do now that he lost everything? Remy swallowed and took a breath. Who was he?

At that moment the door beside him creaked open and his brother peaked from behind it.

"Thought y' might come here?"

Remy scoffed, "Even I didn't think I'd come here."

Henri smiled faintly, "Look Remy, things like this happen, all the time. If they didn't père and mère and even me and Mercy would've never came ta be."

Remy glared at his brother, "What're y' tryin' ta say Henri?"

"I would t'ink that obvious, Remy. Y'…care… for this girl."

Remy looked down at his hands, the fingerless gloves he had on. The calluses and rough fingertips. He had had blood on his hands for all his life. But he didn't want to have any more on them. That was an easy enough story to buy, wasn't it? So why was it that those closest to him couldn't, wouldn't?

"Even my frère thinks I was compromised," Remy laughed darkly.

"There's nothin' wrong wit dat Remy, not when it counts. Not when its for somethin' more dan yourself, which is what it was."

"Really?" Remy looked up at Henri with piercing eyes. "Because I'm startin' ta wonder if it was ever worth it. If all de chasin' and fightin' and sex was worth _that_ compromise."

"That depends on what y' willin' ta do wit that compromise frerot," Henri smiled knowingly as he took a seat beside his brother on the bed.

"But there is somethin' ya need ta know, somethin' we've jus' found out about recently."

Remy eyed his brother skeptically and then nodded to him to proceed.

"She's married Rem," Henri stated as simply as he could.

And in that moment everything clicked into place. The chasing, the fleeing, the pain, the distance, the marks, the bruises, everything was because he wasn't the only one. He wanted to be angry, wanted to hate her in that moment but he couldn't because now he knew. Now it all made sense.

"How?" Remy asked, his mind still putting together, reevaluating every meeting every word.

"Her bank account information, it's a joint account with one Cody Robbins. She registered wit de Guild as Rogue Robbins."

It was his time to fight. He knew what he had to do now, knew where he had to go and what had to be said. The one question was would she let him? After all was said and done, after all he let go would she allow him to love her?

"Henri I need y' to do moi a favor."

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><p>Rogue struggled to pull herself together enough to leave the house. It was enough to drive her insane that it was the Guild calling and the possible implications of such a call but there was fear coursing through her veins as she gathered herself and put on the mask she wore so well.<p>

Henri had called her saying that they would need to discuss what she was to say at the debriefing of her and Remy's heist and she was relieved when he said it would just be the two of them. She knew she would be unable to face Remy if it came down to it. She would not be able to look into his eyes and see all the things she wanted in her life.

It was too much just driving to the diner where she worked to meet up with Henri and she had feeling in her gut that there was more to this than what she was being told. But she was on her way, she was dressed and her wounds were tended to and were not visible to the naked eye. She drove on hoping that she could get through the next forty-five minutes without having an all out meltdown.

Rogue took a seat in the booth as she waited for Henri to arrive. She stared out the window searching for his car, waiting anxiously. She just wanted to leave. Leave everything, everyone. She couldn't deal with this life anymore. She had hurt more people and it was no one's fault but her own. She had let herself get attached when she knew better.

She ordered a coffee and waited and attempted to chat with her friend, the waitress. But there was nothing for her to say. No anymore. She was broken. If she could, she would just lie on the wet, white tile of his bathroom floor for the rest of her life, crying, searing, dying. It was better than what she really deserved for what she did.

Her waitress friend caught her attention, "Rogue who exactly are you waiting for?" she asked.

"An old friend is all," Rogue replied.

"Oh," the waitress said as she departed with a tray of steaming food in her hand.

Rogue turned back around in her seat and there sitting in front of her looking as if he was dead was Remy Lebeau. If she had a heart left to break it would have combusted into trillions of tiny little pieces at just the sight of him not but two feet away from her and the dejected expression he was wearing.

She stared wide eyed at him, at his glowing red orbs that seemed to have dimmed exponentially since their last meeting. It had only been a day. How could he look so…not himself…after one day, she thought. She was frozen with fear. Her worst nightmare come to life.

She was unsure what to do. Words would never be enough and yet they were the only either of them had. No other expressions could work, not when their eyes spoke volumes of the truth of the matter, of the hurt they had caused one another.

"Hey chere," Remy started.

His words hit Rogue like knives.

"Hey," she said meekly.

Neither said another word, they merely sat there in silence for what seemed like eternity, the sun peeking behind them and then slowly dying. The light flashing and then dimming. Rogue parted her lips as if to speak but quickly closed them. Remy reached out his hand only to pull it back.

"Ah…We...," she took a deep breath folding her arms over her chest.

It felt like a cold chill was running through her lungs, like a two ton brick was sitting on her chest, making it impossible for her to breath let alone speak.

"Henri said somethin' about debriefing," she finally let out with great exertion.

"You're married," was Remy's response.

Rogue looked up at him as if she had been shot. Her bright emerald eyes glistening with tears and shock and her arms pulling ever tighter at themselves. She slowly tilted her head downward looking at the table and anything but the pain evident in his eyes. The burning, yearning look he was giving her was eating away at her soul.

"Ah am," Rogue spoke softly never meeting his gaze.

"Why didn't y' tell me?" he asked earnestly.

She was expecting sparks, fire, hatred. But all she could hear in his voice was a need to know, _why_.

"Ah didn't know how….He's a part of mah life that…Ah don't talk about… ever," she could feel his cold fingers brushing along her neck, strangling the words in her mouth. She lifted her shoulders reflexively. But his ghost was gone.

Remy looked at her. That's all he had to do. Look at her and know. She didn't love her husband. And he knew that her husband didn't love her either. Not if he was doing to her, what he had caught his eye all those months ago. But he loved her. And he was going to fight for her.

"Alright."

Once again Rogue was floored. "Alright?"

Remy looked into her deep emerald green orbs and smiled, "Alright."

Rogue shook her head, a dubious expression written on her face. "So…what does this mean?"

She flinched as she waited for his answer and hoped it wasn't the response he had given her before.

"Ball's in your court chere. I'm not leavin'."

There was nothing left to be said by him. He would do whatever she told him to. If she wanted him to leave, he would leave, if she wanted him to stay he would stay, if she wanted him to lover her he would. But at least if he had to leave her it was her word and things would no longer be questions.

Rogue regarded him and the small grin he had at his lips. It was his mask to hide the expectation on the other side. It was his way of keeping from getting hurt, his wall. How many times before had she seen that grin and thought it was nothing more than an expression of amusement and here he was just as damaged as she.

"We can keep the same arrangement as before," she said sternly. "Same thing…Ah can't leave him."

He watched her eyes as she spoke and the way her lips quivered at the words.

"Ah won't leave him. So those are the terms, we can be whateva else you want to be but he stays."

Remy took in her words and despite the fact that it broke his heart to hear them there was a silent agreement. One that said he would get his chance, that this was his way to prove to her his devotion, how far he was willing to go for her. He nodded.

"Alright."

She looked at him across the table and tried her best to smile, "Alright."


	19. Better For You

Chapter 19- Better For You

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><p><em>Bridge the gap<em>

_'Cause Only you_

_Can reach my heart_

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><p>The mist of the morning was just starting to make its way around the French Quarter as Remy and Rogue finished up. Things were the same. Nothing had really changed except for that now they both knew exactly what this was. Rogue shuddered as the word 'affair' crossed into her mind. Once was giving into urges, twice was cheating, but this, this was an affair and they both knew it.<p>

She crawled out of his arms as he switched on the lamp on the nightstand giving her more light. He watched as she sauntered forward on the bed, her skin rolling perfectly with every movement. Every time they did this it killed him a little more. He loved her. He could fully admit that to himself now, after all that had happened, after all they had done together he knew that he loved her.

He watched as she moved towards the end of the bed and searched for her clothing. He couldn't help himself. Rogue felt his arms encircle her waist, his chin rest at her shoulder as she crumpled up her underwear into her hand. She rolled her shoulders escaping his grasp only marginally.

"Get off Remy," it wasn't as cold as it used to be, wasn't like she was trying to push him away. She knew she couldn't do that now; they were too entangled in this dance. No, her tone was displaced, almost apathetic and that's why she knew he would do as she said.

Remy let out a frustrated sigh as he sat back down on the mattress; leaning against his headboard as he searched his nightstand for a pack of cigarettes and lighting one up. He picked up his boxers up from the floor and slid them up in a motion more to give him something to do than to really cover himself up.

This was grating on his nerves; this need to tell her something more. She slid her legs over the side of the bed, shimmying into her shorts and he noticed the bruise, faint purple against her creamy white skin. It wasn't the first but he was tired of ignoring the signs. He loved her. He wasn't going to let her get hurt anymore even if it meant he was going to be the one getting hurt in the process.

"Rogue…" his tone was serious and quiet and it sent shivers up her spine. She had never heard him talk like that before. It worried her. He knew the rules, this was all it could be; they had managed it for this long.

"What is it, Swamp Rat?" Rogue said tiredly as she pulled her hair up through the collar of her shirt, setting her hands down in frustration into her lap.

"Y' ever gonna tell moi where y' get those?" the cigarette was dangling from his fingers and his eyes were a brighter red than she had ever seen.

The smoke curled about him, playing and swaying oddly about his body and Rogue could have sworn that he had never looked more beautiful than sitting against that headboard with the thin layer of smoke clouding him, making his eyes smolder like a flame. It sent shivers down her spine in the worst sort of way. He shouldn't look like that while he was talking to her; it was dangerous; it made something in the pit of her stomach churn.

She had told herself in their time together that she had learned how to read him like a book, but in truth he still held mystery in those demon eyes of his, in the burning sensations he sent through her just with a look and a grin. But this was different. She had never before seen him this concerned for her. His eyes flamed and then quelled, flamed and then quelled, the spark igniting before being extinguished, his lips somewhat pursed.

She looked at his posture, the way he was sitting wasn't normal for him. It wasn't relaxed enough; he was straight against the headboard, the sheets wrapped around his waist, his tanned muscles straining against something. She realized he was straining against himself. Rogue's eyes went down to her shoes as she desperately tried to brush off his comment, slipping them on as she felt his eyes burn into her skin.

"Ah don't know what ya're talking 'bout," she stated pointedly as she stood up and went to the bureau to fetch her things.

Remy clenched his jaw, "Don't do that."

Rogue turned and glanced at him over her shoulder, her eyes narrowed at him, like they used to and he had to take a deep breath to stop himself from overreacting. Rogue rolled her eyes.

"Don't do what, Remy?" Rogue said irritatedly as she went back to shuffling through the bureau.

"Don't push moi away. At least be fuckin' honest wit me. I deserve dat at least," he tried to keep his tone calm but he could feel his voice wavering, could hear the bass give into higher pitches.

Rogue couldn't face him. It was too much to hear him telling her these things, making her think that it might be possible for there to be something more to her life than pain. He couldn't do that to her, it wasn't fair. He couldn't promise her something that she would never be able to have.

"Jus' let it go okay. It doesn't matta anyway," Rogue practically whispered to him. The words got caught in her mouth.

It did matter. It had to matter. Why else would she willingly subject herself to him, to the icy pain that shot through her every time his azure gaze fell on her with that seething hatred that made glaciers run through her veins? Why else would she let him desecrate her without even a second thought? It had to matter, or else living wouldn't be worth it.

She turned and looked at him and she knew she shouldn't have because the second she did, and her eyes met his, fear coursed through her. Not the same fear that she was used to, not the fear that something bad was going to happen but that something about her life was going to be found out. Remy gazed into her wide emerald eyes and she confirmed what he had always known just with one look, one expression, the one of fear. It took two seconds before she looked away, two seconds for her to turn around and face the bureau, but the damage had been done.

"Who is it chere, y' tell me now. Y' tell me who, now!" Remy's voice boomed and Rogue felt him rush to her side his hands at her shoulders, his voice echoing into her skin.

"It's none of ya business who Remy. This wasn't part of the deal. It's mah life, so butt the fuck out," Rogue turned her chest inches from his as she stared into his face, watching the pain flicker across the glowing red irises.

"Non, don't y' dare fucking say dat merde. Y' know dis is not de same. Dis wasn't part of de deal. Who is puttin' deir hands on y' Rogue? Who de fuck t'inks dey can hit y' like y' a homme?" Rogue had never heard him this serious, this angry and it made fear course through her veins. She pushed past him.

"It's one of the girls from work okay, we got in ta a scrap and she knocked me one good. Satisfied?" Rogue bit back as she jerked forward to make her point.

"Bull! If it's someone from work tell moi who it is. Dey be seein' de fuckin' curb by de time de sun comes up!" Remy yelled as he pointed out the window towards the street below.

He watched her falter. As much as she lied he knew she couldn't let someone else take the fall. He knew she didn't have the heart to let someone else get hurt because of someone who didn't deserve amnesty. Rogue's arms wrapped around her body and she stared down at her feet. What the hell had she gotten herself into? Her life had been simple before, painful but simple and then he walked in and made everything so complicated, made her rethink all the things she thought she held to be true.

Remy's chest was rising and falling at a ridiculous pace. He never let his anger get the best of him, not since he was a boy but damnit did this make his blood boil. She loved another that was enough to make him crazy but this, to allow him to be a disgusting piece of filth and live and do this to his chere.

"It's none of ya business Remy," Rogue's words bordering on angry.

"Why can't y' see dat dis is wrong? Why can't ya see dat y' betta dan him, betta dan dis kinda life?" Remy pleaded with her, his tone still full of anger but with a tinge of concern that sent spikes of heat through Rogue's body.

"And exactly what would be betta fo' meh Remy, why don't ya tell meh what's best fo' me hmm. Ya don't even know meh so how do ya know what's best fo' me," Rogue turned on him pressing her hands against his chest and giving him a shove. He slid back a little, the fury in his eyes threatening to set the room on fire; he clenched his fists as he desperately tried to hold on to what little control he had left.

"I would be betta fo' ya, because damnit Rogue I love y'!" Remy blurted out at her, his hands shaking, his fingertips going numb from the adrenaline rushing through his body.

This wasn't the way he had planned on telling her. But then again any plans he had had when it came to her were always thrown out the window. He needed to tell her, needed her to know why it pained him to see her leave every time they did this; why he wished and hoped and prayed she would fall asleep in his arms just to have a little more time with her, just to feel her skin against his and delude himself into thinking that there was something perfect about them; why he risked the very core of their relationship to protect her from what she couldn't see was killing her.

Rogue's blood ran cold. He had said the three words that would kill her. How was she supposed to push him away now? How was she supposed to make sure she didn't get hurt again, to make sure she didn't hurt someone else again if he so openly defied all her rules? This wasn't how this was supposed to go. He wasn't supposed to get attached; it would only mean that she would get hurt. She couldn't love him. But she did, and it killed her to know he loved her back.

How was she supposed to respond? She couldn't very well tell him she loved him back. It wouldn't be fair, she couldn't lie, and she couldn't explain. She had no heart to give him; it had been broken too many times over for that to happen, had been stabbed and stomped on and buried long before they had ever met so how was she supposed to tell him she had nothing to give him? How was she supposed to tell him that there was no use loving her because she was an empty shell?

He deserved better than her, better than a damaged woman. There was no reason why he should want her, but there he was staring at her, with those damned demon eyes, boring into her soul, seeing her for what she was but still wanting her, needing her…loving her. She couldn't hurt him, couldn't let him hurt himself by thinking that he could love her. She had to spare him, had to make sure she didn't hurt another innocent.

"It's none of ya business Remy, so please let it lie," Rogue's voice was calm and even and after the words fell from her lips she looked up at him from under those silvery wisps and Remy lost all control.

"Wrong Rogue, y' may not love moi, dis may be jus' a way fo' y' to get away from dat piece of shit dat y' call a husband mais I am a man and if some bastard t'inks its okay to put his hands on y' it is mon business," Remy spat his hands shaking in fury.

He had seen this coming, had seen her wall locking back into place the second he said the words. He was a thief it was his job to prepare for the obvious, to prepare for the worst and he knew her better than he knew himself. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like hell, didn't aggravate and enrage and kill him to know that she couldn't admit that there was more to their story than she let on. That this game, this deal was more than the physical that they had been lying to themselves about since the very beginning.

Rogue started shaking, anger coming off of her skin in waves as she hit, pounded her fists against the bureau tears welling up in her emerald glaciers her jaw set her teeth bared in a snarl. She let out a guttural scream as she turned on Remy unable to control herself any longer.

It was too much; she couldn't hold it in any longer. Couldn't keep prolonging the pain, he wanted to be overcome with the shitstorm that was her life so be it. Who was she to stop his demise? Who was she to stop herself from hurting a man so set on feeling agony? She was a poisonous temptress after all; she might as well live up to the title.

"What do you want meh ta tell ya Remy? Ya want meh ta tell ya Ah love ya? Ah can't, Ah never will. Because as much as Cody deserves ta rot in hell so do Ah and livin' with him is the worst thing Ah've eva had ta live through but Ah have ta do it. And if Ah get slugged a couple times, and if he takes advantage of meh and…and beats meh then that's mah and mah _husband's_ business," Remy couldn't believe what he was hearing, couldn't believe she could defend him.

He set himself to grab her shoulders, to shake some sense into her but as his arms reached for her she wriggled away ferociously turning on him with a sadistic glint in her eye, tears streaming down her cheeks, an unsettling grin on her face.

"Ah can't love ya. Because Ah have ta love him. He was the only boy who Ah've eva loved and then Ah killed him, Ah ended everythin' that he was with one simple kiss," her voice cracking and raspy from tears.

She felt her shaking hands reach up, stared as Remy took them in his and tried to quell her once more. She escaped his grasp yet again, slowly but surely losing all the resolve she had worked up in the ensuing moments, she felt her guard begin to quiver and let it take over her. There was no point hiding it anymore, no point when he knew all there was to know. When he didn't give a damn about the wall anyways; hadn't since the beginning.

"So Ah deserve what he gives me and this, this is mah escape. Fo' a couple of hours, Ah get to know what it's really like ta be loved but Ah can't love ya. Because if Ah do Ah'll die, because if Ah do Ah won't be able to go back, because if Ah do everythin' Ah lived through will be fo' nothin'," he watched her crumple, watched that façade, that brick wall come tumbling down and for the first time he wished he had never tried to break her.

He couldn't see her tears, couldn't see the way she shook with sobs, all he saw was a woman wracked with pain who couldn't get it through her head to extricate herself from a volatile situation. Remy crossed the little space between them and finally pulled her to his chest and when she fought back this time he just held her there; vowed to never let her go no matter how much she hit and kicked and screamed.

She beat her fists against his chest and let out a horrible shriek as she sobbed and sobbed and he just held her closer and closer kissing the top of her head and caressing her. He wouldn't let her go through this alone. He loved her too much to let the pain wrack her body without his to protect her. His arms were iron tight around her and Rogue tried to breathe, tried to take in air but it was impossible, her lungs were screaming and her body was convulsing uncontrollably with tears.

"Ah can't….Ah can't do it…Ah…can't…love ya," she broke into his skin and Remy tried to fight back his own tears, to just be strong enough to hold her and not kill the man who had caused her pain.

It did kill him. She did kill him, but it was worth it to know that she would be alright, that her pain could stop for even a moment, that she could know that she was loved by someone; loved by someone who could treat her like she needed to be treated, could love her the way she needed to be loved, without end, without any questions, just as she was. It killed him to see her in pain, but if it meant that she could finally heal, finally pull herself away he would do it, he would sacrifice himself every damn time no matter how much it hurt.

It was sometime before Rogue stopped quivering in his arms and Remy pulled his hands to her face angling it up towards his. Her emerald irises were swimming again, liquid instead of ice. She caught his and she saw his anger, watched as they fought back the cackling fire that seemed unquenchable. She held him close to her trying to pull him inside of her, trying to carry his strength with her forever. Remy's lips met Rogue's. The kiss was simple but its implications were complicated.

"I can't let y' go, Marie. I can't let y' go and know dat someone is doin' dis ta y'. Do y' know how hard it was fo' me ta know dat dere was somet'in else goin' on? Ta know dat somet'ing was wrong and not have any control over it. Not have de power ta be a part of y' life," Remy's words were mere whispers against Rogue's skin that sent fire burning through her.

He wasn't supposed to be this close. He wasn't supposed to get under her skin, to make her love him. He was a thief, a thief with devil eyes but he had shown her all the things she knew she needed and she loved him and it killed her. She wasn't supposed to let this happen. Wasn't supposed to be stupid enough to let someone past her guard but he was a thief and he had stolen his way in.

She quivered against his body once more, desperately trying not to meet his gaze but his gentle grip on her chin had her turning her eyes to him every time. He met the liquid emeralds, filled with tears and saw for the first time that she loved him too, could see it, could see that she was tired of keeping him at arm's length. She glanced into his onyx abyss, staring at the swell of sparks that washed forward with his every word. He meant what he said and that terrified her beyond belief.

"I won't be pushed aside anymore. I won't let 'im hurt y' anymore because Je t'aime Marie and I would rather die dan know another man can touch y', can put his hands on y' like y' nothin' and t'ink he won't be buried six feet beneath a pile of merde," Remy's voice was low but his words were heavy and bombastic and Rogue could feel them hit her chest like a ton of bricks, knocking the breath out of her.

"Ah don't know how…Ah don't know how ta do this. Ah don't know how not ta live without him, how not ta feel like Ah deserve pain," the tears streamed down her face as she looked up at him and he saw that innocent little girl once more and he wiped away a tear.

"Den y'll jus' have ta learn. We'll jus' have ta teach one another," he said as his thumbs brushed her tears away and she sobbed once more pulling her head to the crook of his neck.

She was scared; so scared. She didn't know what to say to him. Didn't know how to respond. She felt so naked, like her mask had dropped, like he could see right through her. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't what she had planned. He was breaking all the rules. She knew deep down this is what she wanted but she didn't deserve it, didn't deserve him. He couldn't love her, because it meant the death of her, of who she was, of how she lived and she didn't know any other way.

He was too good for her. He was an angel dressed as a demon. He had vices, had flaws but he was perfect underneath it all and that horrified her. How could an archangel ever love a poisonous temptress, a deadly demon with a cherubic face? He knew her, he loved her and he wasn't supposed to. They were never ones to follow the rules.

Remy kissed her neck, her shoulder, up to her ear, his lips pressed against the supple flesh there.

"We'll learn 'cause Je t'aime Marie and I'm neva lettin' y' go."


	20. So This Is It

_**A/N: So for all of you out there who have been waiting for Cody to die you might finally get your wish in this chapter. Thank you to my lovely reviewers I can't express how much you guys keep me writing these horrible stories and thank you never seems enough but that's what I'll say. This is the second to last chapter so I hope you guys aren't too sad to see it end. I'll be finishing up A Thief's Game for those of you following that, there will be an update to that story today as well and I have already started writing another ROMY fic. So without further adieu the conclusion...is after this chapter. :)**_

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><p>Chapter 20- So This Is It<p>

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><p><em>The pain of leaving is the fear of moving forward<em>

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><p>Rogue had never been more afraid in her life. Staring at the stoop in front of her, and the large wooden door at the place she had been living, no staying was a better word, for the past year or so. She looked on at the house as if it was her tormentor all this time and she felt the ice cold shiver of fear run down her spine once again.<p>

She couldn't move because she was paralyzed by the fear that this was all going to end badly for her somehow. She felt the warmth of his body against her back and slowly, assuringly the ice began to melt. His trench coat flapped around her in the light breeze and she quickly spun and clung to him as a child would, hiding in the jacket as he pulled his arms protectively around her.

"Ah don't know if Ah can do this," she whispered against his chest.

She could barely breathe. Her breaths were short and fatigued as if she had been running, as if all the air in the world had been sucked straight from her lungs. His fingers were under her chin as he angled her face up towards his.

His eyes were mixed with two emotions. She saw in the flaming irises the tenderness that she had come to hold dearest to herself in the world and the fury that had come to reassure her that this would not end without a fight if it had to; and he was more than willing to fight for her.

"Y' said he's not here, right?" Gambit asked trying to reassure her, all the while hoping he was, hoping he could show this sick son of bitch what real pain was.

Rogue cowered evermore into his chest, gripping his shirt tightly in her hands as if someone were going to ghost behind her and rip him from her without any explanation. She was glad he was a full head taller than her in that moment because in his arms she felt so small and it felt like he was caging her in from all the evil in the world. Her guardian angel, wrapped up in a devil's guise.

Rogue nodded as best she could to his question. He grunted. "Ah said he _shouldn't_ be here."

"Lucky him," Gambit said in that threatening tone that relaxed her muscles only marginally.

Remy pulled her back from him slightly to look into her eyes and just seeing him smile down at her gave her the resolve to turn back around and face the house. However, she still positioned his arms around her waist so that he was holding her from behind.

Rogue took a deep breath and with a tight grip on Gambit's hand, led him up the steps. Those four steps felt like a declaration of war, and for all Rogue knew, they were. She turned and faced Gambit. His jaw was set in a grimace as he stared past her to the door as if he had X-Ray vision. She could feel the testosterone running rampant through his veins, could feel the tensed muscles in his arms and chest as he held himself back. He was only making this next part harder for her.

"Rememba what we agreed," Rogue tried not to sound as meek as she felt.

He kept staring at the door. He grunted again in response. Rogue was just thankful him and Logan weren't both here or else there'd be no stopping Cody from being a series of bloodstains and kabob pieces in this very house.

Rogue put her hand on the doorknob, took in a great big breath and opened it. She was about to take a step forward when Gambit's arm blocked her way. He was staring down at her, his ruby irises raging with fire and anger. She put her hand on his shoulder.

"Ah can do this," she attempted to reassure him but her voice was just too unsteady.

Gambit put his hand to her cheek again. "I won't lose y' again."

Rogue tried to fight the tears welling in her eyes. She smiled at him reassuringly. "If anythin' goes wrong your right here, you'll know. Ah know you'll know."

"Chere-" Gambit protested and she pressed a gloved hand against his lips and he was quiet.

She gently lifted his arm and snuck beneath it gazing at him the entire way. But when she made to let go of his hand she found she couldn't or maybe she wouldn't and for a moment they just stood there staring at one another from the opposite sides of the threshold.

It wasn't until Rogue felt the cold chill of fingertips at her neck and the whisper of alcohol in her nostrils that she knew they weren't alone; that they may never be alone as long as the memory was here. She closed her eyes, holding the breath in her chest, clutching Gambit's hand with all the force she could will herself to have in that moment. She knew she couldn't stop him and part of her didn't want to try.

She gritted her teeth and turned. She saw nothing. Nothing but the dark room filled with the stale tinge of beer and the humid air and the regret and pain that hung along with it. She navigated the pathway she knew so well. The living room covered in dust and disrepair; filled with the half empty bottles and cans of repressed anger and unspoken words.

Even as she crept through the hallway to the room she had slept in, the room she had played wife in, she felt the iciness flow over her skin.

It wasn't until she approached the door to the bedroom that she realized Remy hadn't left her at the doorway. That his hand was still wrapped around hers and it was when she turned to look back at him as they stood outside of that doorway on the trodden, stained carpet. She stared into his blood red eyes and turned the knob.

Once inside she took straight to the closet, pulling clothes from hangers and drawers with disregard to how they were arranged in her duffel bag and suitcase. She piled them up as fast as she could all the while watching Remy as he leaned in the frame of the door.

She watched his scarlet fires dart. He was watching her. Watching her dart from here to there. Always present, always vigilant of her. She could have sworn her back was turned only a moment as she tossed a pair of shoes into the suitcase and zipped it up with the finality of a job done and the need to flee a place she had long since wanted to leave.

It wasn't until she no longer felt his eyes on her that she realized what had happened. There was a rustle in the living room. Rogue bolted from the room to find Gambit standing over a cowering Cody who was lying on the floor.

There was no blood and from what Rogue could see Gambit had done nothing to him other than pin him to the ground, a thick boot on either side of Cody's torso.

"YOU mutie bitch!" Cody spat as his eyes caught hers in the hallway.

Gambit's foot made contact with Cody's throat. Rogue watched as he shifted his weight, choking Cody and attempted not to revel in the gasping sound that he made. The sight was more than retribution it was something she took joy in seeing and while she wanted to hate herself for it she couldn't.

Gambit tsked as he pressed his foot against his throat harder, his boots biting into Cody's skin. "Now y' watch your mouth or y' be feelin' a lot more pain in a lot less time," Gambit said in a way that was both seductive and threatening.

Rogue would have said she was surprised by his tone but she couldn't have pictured this happening any other way.

"Aww chere, there y' are. Are we ready to go or shall we," he was looking at Rogue with amusement that veiled his true anger. "Dawdle about a bit?"

Rogue bit her lip; his body was positioned towards her. She shook her head and seeing the agony emanating through her eyes Remy immediately took his foot from off of Cody's throat and stepped back. Cody grasped his neck for a moment before standing up.

"You sick mutie son of a bitch!" Cody lunged forward. "You think ya can have her!?"

A second, that's all it took, a second. And Gambit's bo staff was holding Cody at bay. Pointed straight at his chest with a magenta glow that could only be deemed dangerous. But Remy never stopped staring into her emeralds, Rogue nodded and stepped forward. Gambit pulled the staff down and decharged as Rogue approached Cody.

She watched his icy blue eyes and the seething hatred held within them. It no longer scared her. She was no longer afraid of the man before her or the boy he had been. All she saw was someone she pitied and for the first time since she'd met him Rogue felt at peace with who she was and what she was about to do.

She put her arm up to his shoulder and grasped hard. "Now you listen closely," her tone dripped with resentment. "Ah am not comin' back. Ah'm never comin' back. Ah've forgiven y' for what you've done and Ah've forgiven mahself for what Ah've done."

She paused for a moment, licked her lips and bit back the taste of regret flowing onto her tongue as she spoke. "Ah never want ta see ya again…Y'll get the divorce papers in the mail… Goodbye Cody."

And with that Rogue pulled her fist back as far as possible and then made contact with his jaw. It was painful, and she had felt pain before but it was the sweetest type of pain because of what it meant. This was the type of pain that things she had been waiting for.

She had never felt this beautiful type of agony before. The type that came along with the pain of someone she knew deserved it. Sure she had fought alongside the X-men and beaten many a perp to a bloody pulp but this was different. This was all about her. It sounded selfish but it was the truth. They had no part in her pain or the pain she caused.

Maybe it was understanding firsthand the depravity that Cody had sunk to that made this crack of her knuckles against his jaw that much sweeter; she relished in the biting sting for a moment and then shook her hand free of the sensation.

Cody staggered for a moment and then held his jaw. His hand poised itself for a punch and Rogue had no time to react. She was too busy feeling overjoyed at having finally done what she had wanted to do since she had come back to New Orleans. His fist was inches from her face when his body was hit back by the sheer force of a blow that Rogue had not seen coming.

Gambit had hit Cody in the stomach with the end of his staff, knocking the wind from his lungs. Gambit lunged at him with the lithe primal attack of a lion and soon both were grappling on the floor for control. No, grappling wasn't the right word, Rogue thought. To be sure Cody would have had to have had a chance in order for grappling to be the operative word.

Gambit had him pinned on the ground, the staff under Cody's chin cutting off the air supply as Gambit rammed his hand repetitively into his face. The blood spattered from his nose onto the floor but Rogue had stopped looking long ago. She was sitting outside on the stoop with her things. The cool August breeze of the late afternoon bathing her skin.

She could hear the subtle grunts and the thuds of weight being shifted. Her eyes were closed. Not long ago that would have been her; she would have been the one inside being heard on the outside. She took a deep breath and let it out. She shouldered her duffel bag and picked up her suitcase.

Inside Gambit held Cody with less effort than it would have taken for him to keep a small child at bay. Still Cody didn't seem to understand and kept wriggling beneath the staff; Gambit would give him a good hit to the ribs to remind him not to move.

"GET OFF OF ME YOU DEMON!" Cody spat into Gambit's face.

Gambit pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his trench and wiped the spittle that had landed on his face before abruptly stuffing it into Cody's mouth, effectively gagging him. Cody choked and tried desperately to lift his body from under the weight of the staff.

Gambit smiled snidely before pressing the staff ever tighter against Cody's throat, threatening to lay the full weight of his body, his knees pressing against the ends as his hands freely grabbed the ripped collar of Cody's t-shirt.

"Now you listen and y' listen well homme, if I can even call y' dat," Remy spat back in his face, the spit dribbling down Cody's face.

"If you ever so much as show your face anywhere near ma chere I will gut y' like a fish and have no regrets about it." Gambit charged a card between his fingers. The magenta glow flashed and illuminated the small space between the men.

He threw the card into a pile of bottles and beer cans and watched as it unceremoniously blew the pile sky high and shards scattered along the living room and about the pair. Cody's bright blue eyes watched in horror as the magenta glow then transferred to his clothing.

"Now like I said befo' if I see y' anywhere near Rogue we won't be havin' as much fun as we are today. And if you t'ink dat those bottles saw some damage imagine what I could do to a spineless piece o' merde like yo'self."

Cody flinched as if the threat was imminent and Gambit gritted his teeth and snarled at the utter cowardice of the man lying beneath him. He slapped him good once.

"Mon people will be watchin' y' Cody Robbins. If y' so much as sneeze in de wrong direction I will know. And if y' feel up ta bringing another woman into this godforsaken shit hole y' call a home and treatin' her even a thousand times better dan y' did Rogue that charred spot on de carpet will not be from a pile of garbage, understand?"

Cody nodded adamantly and Gambit grinned nastily.

"Good. Now as much as I wish I could end yo' sorry ass life right now, I have a belle femme worthy of more than even moi waiting outside and I don't like to leave her waitin'. So…"

Gambit wounded up his fist and hit Cody straight in the jaw. Cody's body slackened and Gambit stood up collecting himself and his things, brushing himself off and pushing his hair back with his hands. He let out a deep breath.

He stood over the man, he was the epitome of garbage and it disgusted Gambit to even look down upon him. He didn't want to see his face anymore; it repulsed him. He gave a good hard kick to the man's ribs hearing the crunch of the bone beneath his heavy boot.

A few broken ribs were the least he owed Rogue. Gambit could have stayed here all night and tortured the man to within an inch of his life but he thought better of it. He figured he'd let the Guild handle it. After all one of their contacts had been the victim of abuse and the Guild did anything if not protect their own.

Remy slipped quietly outside, locking the door behind him and watching Rogue as she breathed silently in front of him. He could tell that this was emotionally draining on her. There was only so much she could take in one day. He shuddered to think what could have happened had he not been here today.

Rogue looked up suddenly. Gambit was beside her. She no longer heard the thuds and grunts. His hand was in her hand. She looked up at him and the blazing reassurance in his eyes. It told her that Cody was not dead. She was indifferent about that fact. Part of her wanted to know that he would no longer be able to hurt another person, but the other part knew that she was the only person he was capable of hurting.

Remy took her bags from her and shrugged off his coat to wrap around her. She took in the deep scent of cigarettes and spices and Remy Lebeau. He cupped her face in his hands trying to get her to look him in the eyes. When she did they were filled with tears.

"He's just unconscious. And when he wakes up he'll be in de most pain he's ever experienced but it'll pass, in a few months," he said in that soothing tone that made her melt.

She nodded. "Hey," he said softly.

She looked up at him and saw his beautiful face and nothing else mattered. There was nothing left to fear, nothing left to hide because he was there. She ran her thumb over his perfect bottom lip. She pressed her lips to his and stole the breath from within his lungs into hers, tasting, feeling, and loving him. She pulled his lip into her mouth and with a playful nip parted from him slightly.

"Let's go home," she uttered quietly, smiling contentedly. Remy had never loved any three words more in his life, excepting when she said I love you.


	21. Epilogue: Demon Eyes

Epilogue: Demon Eyes

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><p><em>He's all I'll ever need<em>

_She's all I ever wanted_

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><p>Rogue couldn't lie. It had been hard those first few weeks. The adjustment of having love in her life and learning how to accept it. True and real love. It seemed unfathomable to her at times. Especially when she thought of the man who was giving it to her.<p>

She was blessed with him; with his love that encompassed her so fully she could never really know exactly the depths he felt for her. She could only return what she had been feeling since the first moment in that bar, when she met his eyes. The first time he saved her.

He was her guardian angel. He hated when she called him that. It made her smile to. But when she did he knew she loved him. They had had their trials. They were ready for something safe, easy. But their love was anything but.

They fought over her insecurities and his frustrations, over her shortsightedness and his annoying ability to get under her skin, but mostly they fought about the things that had come to pass. It took time before Rogue could fully trust him, even after all that had happened.

But she knew when she would lie in bed with him and the early morning sun would be cresting along the grey sky and the shore was just in the distance. She knew that she could never forget the feeling of his warmth wrapped around her, filling her with this buoyancy that she had never felt before.

She would run her fingertips along his arms, over his shoulders, to his collarbone. Tracing every line and bone and mark on his skin. And he would never leave. He would just hold her. Even when she threw things across the room in rage, and would sob to the point that her body rocked with convulsions, even when she would push him away. He would always hold her close. Even when her fingertips fell across his lips.

After a few months of starts and stop, they were off to a better start. She was genuinely happy for the first time in her life and she knew there was no other way to describe it than because of the heat that emanated from within her chest. The heat the surged forward; whose flames were fanned, by the simple devilish grin and wink of a man with demon eyes.

Those nights, when his hips would move against hers in that blissful way and she would cry out his name in rapture and she swore she could feel nothing more than the inferno of their love; those nights were the ones she was scared would end. Those nights were her worst fear, that one day those fires set deep within their cores would somehow burn out.

But every night he would take her in his arms and she would ignite, she would spontaneously combust into a million flaming pieces as his flesh moved against hers. She couldn't deny that her angelic demon was the only person to ever let her love; and for the first time she loved fully.

She pulled his lips to hers in the dim light of the coming dawn, wrapping her leg over his hip under the sheets and pressing herself as close to him as possible. She stared into the depths of those red on black eyes and saw nothing that anyone else could see. She saw the pain, the joy, the agony that they had both experienced. And as those waves of fire coursed forth in his irises she saw the one thing no one else ever had shown her: unadulterated, passionate, never-ending love.

"I love you," she whispered to him feeling his body become one with hers and that warmth seep through her entire body.

He gazed down at her wrapped up in his arms, and the crystalline tears formed at the edges of her emerald green eyes. He brushed the white streak from her hair, trailing his finger along her cheek. "Je t'aime aussi."

"Always?" she asked daring not to look into his eyes.

He shifted her chin to force her to look into his eyes.

"Forever," he murmured against her lips.

They were engulfed by the flames raging in his demon eyes and reflected back in her emerald waters.

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><p><em><strong>AN: Okay so I know this probably is not the ending most would have wanted but I would have truly gone on forever with this story if I could and I felt like after everything they've been through Rogue and Remy just need time to focus on their relationship without the drama. **_

_**So that's what this epilogue was for. If you have any specific questions as to what happened to them in more specific terms feel free to put it into a review or PM me.**_

_**Once again thank you to all who read my story and thought it was good; I worked hard and the premise was something that had been stewing in my mind for a while before I decided to write it. So muchas gracias for all the support and I hope you keep reading my stories in the future! :D**_


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